Yesterday Once More
by coonskin
Summary: An away mission for Buck and Wilma goes wrong. Horribly wrong.
1. Chapter 1

"Mangolia," Crighton said. "Little data is known, as they were a solitary people until quite recently. Their society is advanced technologically but completely planetbound. They do have space communication and recently expressed interest in trade agreements with other worlds. Their main products they are offering are mangolam, a fruit, and also android parts. They apparently have built advanced androids to handle many functions in their city. The word advanced is _their_ term." Crighton's electronic disdain couldn't have been more obvious.

Wilma studied the planet on the screen. "Well, we'll soon find out more information for your data banks. Ready, Buck?"

"Sure. Even if this is halfway a boring diplomatic mission."

She hid her smile at his tone. "Diplomatic missions serve an important purpose in the galaxy, Buck. Think of it as our contribution to galactic peace."

"They're still boring. But this is only halfway a diplomatic mission, so hopefully there will be some interesting things down there."

Admiral Asimov spoke up. "Good luck, you two, and keep in contact."

"Yes, sir," Wilma responded. She and Buck left the bridge.

They landed the shuttle just outside the main city, not sure how the general population would react to it. The leaders definitely were aware of space travel but did not participate themselves, and it was a safe bet that spacecraft weren't flying in and out of this city all the time. So the shuttle was parked carefully concealed in a grove of trees, and the two of them headed toward the coordinates they had been given.

Buck looked around at the woods with that special brand of wistfulness in his eyes that Wilma knew enough to recognize by now. "It reminds you of earth, doesn't it? Your earth."

"Yes." He looked over at her. "I wish you could have seen it, Wilma."

"I do, too." She moved closer to him, and he slid an arm around her waist as they walked on. They were working right now, focused on business, but there was still a silent acknowledgement of their new closer relationship, and she relished it.

The city took shape up ahead. The buildings were well built but very similar, as if the same design had been used over and over on each. Androids mixed with citizens on the street, though the androids were set apart by the fact that they were engaged in some task, such as operating the city transit skimmers, polishing buildings - all were brilliantly white - or other manual labor.

Two men and a woman stood up ahead waiting in front of the largest building, and Buck and Wilma headed that way. They were humanoid, though subtly not human on close inspection. The taller man stepped forwad. "Welcome," he said, extending both hands. "Welcome to Mangolia, people of the starship Searcher."

Wilma took the lead in the proper formal return. "Welcome, Premier Anderin. We are honored to visit your world."

"If you will come this way, we will introduce you to some of our products." The Mangolians entered the large building, and the two humans followed them. Buck had his head cocked slightly as they walked through the halls.

"What is it?" Wilma whispered.

"Not sure," he whispered back. "Something seems odd about the way they looked at us."

"Buck, they're not used to offworlders. Of course they're curious."

"I hope that's it," he replied.

Anderin turned and entered a large room, and the door closed behind them. Several androids were here, working on various tasks. A table before them had a few fruit and some electronics on it. "This is a mangolam," Anderin said, picking up a fruit. "It is quite delicious. Would you care to sample it?"

Wilma pulled out her scanner and swept over it first. "I hope you realize, Premier, that no insult is intended. Physiology differs among species, and what is safe for one might not be safe for another." The scanner could find nothing wrong with the mangolam, and she accepted it. Another was handed to Buck.

"Just bite into it," Anderin supplied, taking a crunch of one himself in demonstration.

Wilma did so. The fruit was indeed delicious, all but melting in her mouth with a surge of flavors that she wasn't familiar with. She looked over at Buck, who looked a lot more impressed - and more wistful - than he had earlier as he munched his own fruit.

"This is wonderful, Premier. I am sure that other worlds would be interested in trading for this."

"Yes, we are quite proud of them. And then there are our androids. You must see our androids in action." He stepped back, and his voice raised. "Attend."

The androids promptly left their tasks and surrounded the group, and Buck tensed up again. Wilma did, too. They were far outnumbered, and there was suddenly a subtle threat in this gathering that she, too, could sense now.

The woman from the greeting party spoke up. "These are excellent specimens, Premier. I believe they will work very well."

"Specimens?" Buck repeated. "We are not specimens. We're a diplomatic envoy."

Anderin ignored the protest, replying to the woman. "They should fetch a high price indeed when sold, Starin. Seize them!"

The androids moved in. Buck and Wilma went into full fight mode, but they were far outnumbered. Still, they managed to take down a few of the androids before Wilma was completely pinned by a large one from behind. Buck turned to try to help her, and another android brought down a slamming blow on the back of his head. He crumpled to the floor.

"Cease!" Anderin commanded. The androids stopped, though Wilma was still pinned. Anderin walked over to Buck, poked him with a foot, then bent. "He is still alive. Hopefully not damaged enough to impact the price."

"This is an outrage!" Wilma fumed, struggling against her captor. "We were invited here - lured here - on a diplomatic mission. The Searcher will not tolerate this."

"And what will they do?" Anderin asked her with a cold smile. "Send us more? The more the profit. Take them to a holding room," he commanded the nearest android. "They will be put up for sale this afternoon."

The holding room proved to be small, but at least the androids left once Wilma and Buck were deposited there. As soon as she was released, Wilma hurried to Buck. His pulse was strong, breathing regular. He did have a palpable swelling on his head where he had been struck, but there was no bleeding. He'd picked up worse injuries several times that she knew of; hopefully, he would regain consciousness soon. Wilma shook him and called, but he didn't respond.

Straightening up, she examined their prison. The most interesting feature of it, as far as she was concerned, was that the door was inset slightly, resulting in an alcove on each side. One of those contained a table with some water and food on it, but the other one was empty. They could hide there. If only a few androids came to retrieve them, maybe they could take them by surprise. The mechanical beings _could_ be overpowered. They had taken down a few of them. Getting a jump from behind might be the advantage they needed. Of course, their weapons and communicators had been removed. She stood in the middle of the room, looking around and thinking fiercely, trying to spot anything she had missed.

Buck stirred, and Wilma was back over to his side in a flash. "Buck?" She knelt, putting a hand on his arm. He groaned and shifted. "Take it easy, Buck. It's okay." His eyes slowly opened and swept their surroundings. He looked bewildered. "Easy, Buck. Just lie still for a minute."

Of course, he disobeyed, pushing himself on up to a sitting position. She helped him. "How do you feel?"

He raised one hand toward his head, then dropped it as if unsure he really wanted to touch the throbbing spot. "Got a King Kong-sized headache, but I think my body is still attached at least."

She smiled, reassured, even though she didn't understand the reference. They probably didn't have much time; she'd better explain things in a hurry. "Listen, Buck. I've come up with a plan. When they come back, we'll be hiding right back in that alcove next to the door." She waved at it, and his head followed the motion. "They'll walk in and think we've disappeared, and hopefully that will give us a few seconds to catch them off guard. We'll tackle them, grab their weapons, make a run for it, and try to get clear of the complex. Hopefully they'll even have our communicators with them; that would make it easier, but I'm not counting on it. Either way, we've got to get out of here."

She stopped. He had inspected their prison fully and now was looking at her again, and something in his blue eyes bothered her. It wasn't just lingering disorientation from waking up in an unfamiliar room. She knew Buck by now, and while his expression definitely was _him_ , it also held another element at the moment that she couldn't define. "What is it, Buck?"

He studied her as she knelt next to him, one hand on his arm, the other supporting his back as he sat there. "One question."

"What?" she prompted.

"Who are you?"


	2. Chapter 2

Wilma stared, feeling like she had been struck a hard blow herself. "You're kidding. No, you're not kidding." There wasn't a trace of joking in him at the moment. "You don't remember?"

"I remember plenty of things," he retorted. "But all this" - his gesture included her along with the room - "isn't on the list. How did I get here? Is this some kind of crazy dream?" He pinched himself. "Nope."

Wilma was scrambling mentally. "You really don't remember?"

"It might help if you told me _what_ I'm supposed to be remembering." He looked around again. "This definitely isn't heaven. Not quite how I pictured hell, either. So if it's not a dream, what is it?"

"Do you know who you are?" she asked, trying to define some limits here. She reached toward that knot on his head again, which was obviously more serious than she had thought at first. He pulled away from her. Impatience and a bit of irritation were joining confusion in his clear blue eyes.

"Of course I know who I am."

"So what's your name?" she asked.

He rolled his eyes, but he did answer. "Buck Rogers. You might not have noticed, but I did ask you the same question a minute ago. Are you sure _you_ know who you are?"

More and more, he was reminding her of the Buck who had freshly landed in the 25th century, the one who had been so obnoxiously annoying to try to cover his disorientation and grief. "Wilma," she said distractedly. "Wilma Deering. Buck, what year is it?"

"1987," he replied promptly.

She closed her eyes. This couldn't, _couldn't_ be happening. They didn't have time for it in their current circumstances. She had to have him as a fully cooperative partner to stage an escape, and he apparently really did have no idea who she was. Nor would he remember advanced computers or androids or extraterrestrials or a hundred other things they were likely to encounter escaping.

"Wilma." He used her name for the first time, and she opened her eyes. She could hear the deeply hidden edge of fear beneath his voice. "What year do _you_ think it is?"

"It's . . ." She slammed to a verbal halt as the full implications struck her. He didn't remember. He was going to have to go through the shock and grief of losing his world all over again, all his family and friends, _everything,_ and they simply didn't have time. They _had_ to seize the first opportunity to get out of here. This wasn't the time to tell him. It wouldn't be fair to drop all that on him and then expect him to be at peak effectiveness in the next minute.

On the other hand, he was going to work out pretty quickly that something was badly wrong. If they did get out of here, the sights and experiences would keep adding up to an equation he didn't understand.

"What year is it?" It was more a demand than a question now.

She sighed, trying to remember how this had been handled last time. The trouble was, she hadn't been involved. It had been Dr. Huer and Dr. Theopolis who had taken the lead in informing him. She had been so sure he was a spy that their proposed efforts at breaking the alleged news to him gently had struck her as a complete waste of time, and after saying so in no uncertain terms, she had left the field to them and stalked off in disgust to other responsibilities. For all Buck's adaptability, she did remember that by Theo's report, he had been absolutely shocked at first, as anybody would have.

Nobody else was here now to take over, and this time, she really did want to support him herself, to soften the blow as much as she could. She still harbored some residual guilt over how she had treated him back then in his first few days. He had been scrambling to sort out events beyond his comprehension, and she had given him only hostility and suspicion. But they were acutely in danger at the moment. They had to get somewhere safe first. "Buck, please, trust me. I'll tell you everything soon as I get a chance, but this isn't the time. We're in danger. We're being held prisoner here, and we've got to break out. We haven't got time to go over everything before they come back."

He looked around again. "Who's holding us prisoner? And why?"

"The Mangolians. They apparently want to sell us."

She was glad to see a spark of defiance ignite in his eyes. "But that's slavery."

"Yes. And unless we want to submit to slavery, we have _got_ to get out of here." She stood up and reached down to him. "Come on. Can you stand up? Do you feel all right other than..."

He hauled himself to his feet. "I feel okay except for the headache, but who on earth are the Mangolians?"

"They're..." She broke off again. Telling him that they weren't on earth, and neither was he, would fall straight into the topic she had to postpone for the moment. "They're the people who live here. We arrived and wanted to be friendly, but they just wanted stock to sell. So they set a trap and kidnapped the two of us, and you got hit on the head during the struggle. That must be why you don't remember everything. Hopefully it's just temporary." Recovery within the next 30 seconds would be ideal.

He reached up again to the sore spot, this time feeling carefully around it. "I sure didn't get that in the ship," he admitted. "I was strapped in; even when I lost consciousness, I wouldn't have hit my head."

"So the last thing you remember is your ship freezing?"

He nodded, shivering at the thought.

She sighed again. "I'm sorry, Buck, but I really don't have time to explain it right now. Come on." She backed into the alcove, and he followed her. "And if we manage to overpower the guards and break out of here, please, just keep following me. No matter how strange things may look to you, ignore it for the moment. Just stay with me."

"Everything already looks strange," he objected. "How much stranger can it get?"

"You don't want to know. Please, Buck, just trust me on this for now and stay with me."

He looked down at himself. "You know my name, at least, and that the ship froze up. I'm not wearing my flight suit anymore, either. Obviously _something_ has happened in between. But how do I know you're on my side? Maybe you're trying to get me to sell for yourself, trying to top their price, or maybe you've lied about them. It's not like I've heard anybody else's version so far. I haven't even heard much of _your_ version."

She gritted her teeth. Every second lost in stubbornness instead of getting ready for the guards was working against them. " _Trust_ me. You have wonderful instincts about people. What's your 'gut feeling' about me, as you would put it?"

He considered, then tucked back against the wall alongside her. "Okay. But I want that explanation the first chance we get. And there had better really be people out to get us."

"Believe me, there are. As for the explanation, I'll give it to you. I promise." She reached out to touch his arm. "I'm sorry you're having to go through this." She managed to bite off the word again. "Really, Buck."

Nothing was impaired about his observation skills. "What was it you almost said there and changed your mind on at the last second?"

"I'll tell you lat-" At that moment, she heard the door start to open, and she dropped into silence. With him next to her, she pressed flat against the wall and waited.


	3. Chapter 3

Buck wasn't sure what to think.

He was still jolted at the abrupt transition from freezing on Ranger 3, resigning himself to death, to waking up suddenly in this room that somehow looked _odd._ The construction materials of the walls didn't resemble anything he was used to. The lights above were unfamiliar. His own clothes felt strange on him, again made out of materials that somehow felt different against his skin. His clothes _looked_ familiar, like something he would wear, but they felt subtly wrong.

Then there was Wilma. Above all, there was Wilma. He wanted to trust her; his gut feeling did cast the verdict in her favor. Furthermore, there was her reaction when he had asked who she was. If she had faked that, she deserved an Oscar. But at the same time, she definitely was stalling, and he didn't think it was entirely because people allegedly were out to get them. How much time could it take simply to state the year? That wasn't a difficult question. There was something she was deliberately keeping from him, and his mind worried at that like a dog at a bone.

The year. Judging from her reaction when he gave it, he was pretty sure by now that it wasn't in fact 1987 anymore. He must have lost a year or two in that odd gap in his memory. He couldn't deny that a gap _was_ there; he had too much hard evidence of that, plus the headache. He'd definitely been clocked fairly hard on the back of the head, and no candidates for that action had even been on Ranger.

So if it was 1988 or 1989 now, what was going on? What had been going on? Obviously, NASA must have rescued him somehow. He'd been talking to them right up to the moment he blacked out. They had known his location and what he was doing; they must have sent up another ship to help him.

But how long would that take? He knew the extensive launch preparations required. You couldn't just back another shuttle out of the garage and hit the space highway with it. A month or two at least. Had he been frozen for a month or two?

His people. Where were his family, his friends, Jennifer? Did they know he had been rescued? Surely NASA would have told them. Buck tried desperately to remember, to pull anything out of that silent gap, but he only succeeded in ramping up the headache. He had to get in touch with them, reassure them, make sure they knew he was okay. Well, relatively okay.

Now, he waited next to Wilma, wanting to trust her but still wondering what it was she was keeping from him. Her clothes looked even stranger than his, some kind of uniform but not matching any branch of the service. He couldn't see the insignia at the moment, which was on the arm farther from him. He'd be sure to look next time he had a good chance.

Her comment dropped into silence as the doors swished open. Even the swish sounded odd; he'd never heard automatic doors with quite that tone.

Two people stepped through the door and stopped in surprise at the empty room as the door closed again behind them. They promptly started to turn toward the alcoves, of course, but that slight hesitation gave Wilma and Buck their chance. Wilma launched herself at them immediately, and Buck, absorbing quickly the fact that they did have weapons drawn, was only a fraction behind her.

It was a short but intense fight. Buck grinned as his opponent collapsed on the floor. "Have a nice nap," he said and turned to see if Wilma needed help. She didn't; her guard hit the deck mere seconds after his. "Not bad," he told her approvingly. She knew how to handle herself.

"Thank you," she replied. She bent over her guard, feeling through his clothes, which again looked totally strange to Buck. "Damn. No communicators. Unless..." She shifted over and checked the pockets on his opponent. "No. Well, at least we have weapons now."

Buck meanwhile, watching her search, came to startled attention. The man he had taken down had had a flap torn from the back of his neck in the struggle, and clearly visible were wires and circuits, a few wires torn. "What the..."

Wilma looked up, then back down, following his gaze.

"They're some kind of robot?" Buck asked.

She sighed. "Sort of."

"But they way they moved, the way they fought. They were almost acting human. We haven't got the technology for anything like this. Who built them?"

"Buck, we haven't got time for it right now. I'm sorry." She straightened up and handed him the weapon, then reached for the other robot's gun herself.

"I'm getting tired of that answer," he protested.

"We have _got_ to get out of here," she reiterated. "First things first. I'll explain it all later."

Buck looked down at the gun and did another double take. It was clearly a weapon, but the more closely he looked at it, the stranger it appeared. There was no hollow barrel; it ended in some sort of plastic bubble instead. It looked for all the world like something that had wandered out of an arcade. "What kind of bullets does this thing fire?"

Wilma sighed again. She reached over and pointed out controls quickly. "Trigger."

"That much I recognized," he replied sarcastically.

She rolled her eyes. " _Pay attention,_ Buck. This is the power control. At least I hope it is; looks close enough to ours. Full power, you disintegrate things. At the lower part of the scale, it's just a stun gun." The dial was near a quarter power, apparently set on stun. She checked hers, which was the same, and then turned for the door. "Let's go. And _stay with me_. Don't stop and look around, and don't decide to do something crazy just to be stubborn."

He grinned. "You might know me after all."

"Yes, I do. Now let's _go._ " She stepped up to the door, and it swished open politely. Wilma looked up and down the hall outside, then back to make sure that Buck was at her shoulder. "We're going left. I think I remember the way out of here. If - when - we see anyone, fire immediately. Don't give them a chance to talk; we already tried being friendly, and they tricked us." She picked up a smooth run. Buck took one more look at his gun, then shrugged and followed.


	4. Chapter 4

Wilma ran down the hall, every nerve painfully on edge, her senses attuned both in front of her, looking for the Mangolians, and behind her, making sure that Buck was following. He ran along just back of her left shoulder, but the difference to her was painfully obvious. Their partnership, their radar for each other, was completely absent. Their working relationship had been honed over his couple of years in this time to a fine art in which words often weren't necessary. Then they had taken that on in recent weeks past just friendship and were closer than ever.

But not now. In this crisis, he was with her physically, but that was all. He truly didn't know her at the moment. That hurt, even though she knew it certainly wasn't his fault. It also worried her about their escape. How effective a team would they be when challenged without that unspoken bond, almost reading each other's thoughts at times, their actions seamlessly and effectively fitting together?

She was also so worried about Buck in general that it was almost giving her a headache herself. He was clearly completely puzzled but with growing suspicion, the unknown picture of a whole new world already beginning to form in his mind, and her heart went out to him. They had to get out of here and get back to the Searcher. Surely Dr. Goodfellow would have a solution. They could hook him up to the OEI. There was some treatment, some research the doctor would know. They could do _something_ to help him. This couldn't be permanent. And if it was, she promised herself, he could adjust again given time and support, and she would be there for him all the way. But hopefully it wouldn't be necessary.

An additional worry was whether he should be doing things at all at the moment like tackling guards and running around with an obvious head injury, but there was nothing she could do about that. They _had_ to get away. His very active participation was required. She just hoped that they weren't making things worse.

Up ahead, two Mangolians rounded the corner of the hall, walking along talking to each other. Wilma and Buck both fired, and they dropped to the floor. Buck looked at his weapon, though he didn't stop running. "Pretty impressive," he said. "So just how do they make a gun with adjustable effect?"

"Later," Wilma hissed. She rounded the corner.

"You need to get that on a T-shirt," he grumbled, leaving her own curiosity piqued and unanswered.

They only encountered a few more isolated Mangolians and, once, a pair of androids along their way. The androids failed to respond to the stun settings at first and required a second shot at increased power before they collapsed with the electrical sound of snapping circuits. Buck turned his head to look at them oddly, but he did at least keep going.

Their luck ran out just before the main exit of the building. A group of ten was standing there in conference, including Anderin. Wilma slammed to a halt at the previous corner as she saw them, trying to work out strategy and approach. Buck for the first time went past her, charging right on around the corner, shots blazing. He managed to take down three in that first flurry before the Mangolians could start returning fire. He ducked quickly back around the corner, pressing against the wall beside Wilma. "Planning to join this party?" he asked her.

"I was working out a plan."

"I thought you said we already had one. Charge and fire."

She snapped off a shot around the corner, dropping one more, then dodged a return. "Outnumbered this far, one of them is likely to get a chance to shoot us before we could take down all of them. It's better to have a strategy."

His head jerked around, looking behind them. "Well plot quickly, then. We've got more company." He fired, taking out the two who had appeared behind them. "We're probably going to get more company pretty soon, too. If this is their building, they're bound to notice this battle and call in reinforcements. You think the odds against us are going to go down?"

He was right. She sighed, then shot again around the corner. "Okay. I wish we had some kind of distraction."

She regretted the words as soon as she said them. Buck may have been without his memory, but he was still Buck, and any statement like that was pure challenge. "Hang on. One distraction, coming up."

"Buck!" She grabbed at his arm too late. He whipped around and ran back the other direction. After he rounded the previous corner, she heard three laser shots, and then there came a hard explosion. The lights flickered and went out, daylight coming in the entrance now their only visibility. Alarms went off.

In the next second, he was beside her again. "As you're so fond of saying, _keep moving._ " He pushed her on around the corner into chaos. Anderin had stepped over to the wall, trying to get a communication panel to work. The others were looking every direction. Lasers blazing, Buck and Wilma managed the charge for the door, Mangolians falling right and left. They exited the building at a dead run. In the next second, Buck's stride faltered as he looked around this extremely modern, pure white city. Wilma knew it couldn't resemble any design he was familiar with.

The reaction was only for a second, and then he picked up pace again. "This way!" Wilma urged. The citizens of the city looked at them curiously, but no one outside of their government building seemed to know what was going on. Wilma kept running, heading in the direction of the edge of the city. A few kilometers outside city limits, their shuttle waited. Buck, next to her, was wide eyed, his head nearly on a swivel as he looked right and left, but he kept going.

"What did you shoot back there?" she asked.

He shrugged. "Beats me, but it looked like some kind of control room. I noticed it when we passed it down the hall a minute earlier. Lots of computers, lots of lights. Really impressive computers. It reminded me a little bit of a transformer substation."

"A what?" she asked, running along.

He grinned at her. "We don't have time for explanations at the moment, Wilma. You do know where we're going, right? Other than just getting out of here?"

"Yes," she replied. "Just stay with me." She raced on through the city.

They were free. For now.


	5. Chapter 5

Wilma and Buck pressed up close against a large tree, peering around either side of it. They were sheltered in the woods, but in the clearing ahead, their shuttle was surrounded. Several Mangolians along with some androids stood guard. At least they hadn't gotten into the shuttle. They had tried, and two still were attempting it, but the little craft was securely locked, standard procedure on any mission while it was parked on a planet instead of safe in the Searcher's hanger deck.

Wilma gritted her teeth. So close, but with that many people, especially encircling the shuttle, they didn't have a chance of charging through. There were too many angles of fire. Buck apparently agreed; he hadn't tried to bolt on into the group with gun blazing this time. Instead, he stood there studying the shuttle with both confusion and a pilot's keen interest in his eyes.

She touched his arm and then, when he looked at her, jerked her head. He gave one last look at the shuttle and then followed her as she withdrew to a safe distance where they could talk softly.

"We'll never get through. Not right now," she said. "Our best chance is to wait until dark and then try to pick them off one at a time." She glanced at her chronometer. "Night will only be a couple of hours away."

Buck looked at his own, shook his wrist, then discarded that puzzle for another. "Just how does that thing back there fly? It didn't have wings or rotors either one. If we landed it there, like you said, it clearly doesn't need a runway. Doesn't need a launch pad to take back off, either. What's the power source?"

"Buck, we haven't got time to get into technology right now. I'm sorry." That conversation could easily take a couple of days. She paced a worried circle. "They must have gotten out an alarm already that we escaped and had people already in this area move to surround the shuttle. Hopefully this is all the group that will be guarding it and they don't have more reinforcements coming."

"That group was certainly big enough already to deal with," he agreed.

"We'll just have to hide until dark." Her mouth was dry, making her think enviously of the supplies on the shuttle. She looked back in that direction. "Unfortunately, we don't have any supplies with us, no food or water, but at least we have weapons. We should be safe enough this far back as long as we hide well. They don't move too quietly; I don't think they're that experienced at trying not to be noticed. We ought to hear anybody getting close to us."

She turned around to make sure he was following this argument and came to startled attention so fast she hurt her neck doing it. Buck had disappeared.

"Buck!" she hissed. She couldn't afford to be too loud. Damn it, how had he given her the slip like that? She thought she'd kept all radar alert toward him every moment since their escape. Whatever deficits the Mangolians had in quiet movement, Buck was an expert at it and apparently had been well before this century.

She looked around frantically. To be separated right now would be disastrous. He wasn't even on earth, had no idea where he was, wouldn't understand much of what he saw here, and the sole friend he had on this planet was her. "Buck!"

Nothing. Drawing her weapon, she headed back toward the shuttle, hoping that was his direction for whatever reason. He had agreed the odds were too great right now in daylight, so she had no idea why he would be going back there, but the only other direction he knew at all at the moment was the route they'd traveled from the city, and surely he wouldn't go back to the city. This was hardly the time for random exploration, either, and even he would accept that. No, it had to be the shuttle.

Most of the way there, she met him coming back, gliding through the trees as silently as a shadow. He was carrying a pack.

"What do you think you're doing?" she whispered, furious.

He shrugged. "Getting supplies. They had some, even if we didn't. They were obviously setting up camp to stay for a while; I saw their stores at the side earlier. I slipped up through the trees, threw a rock to get their attention in another direction for a minute, and grabbed a few water containers and some weird-looking kind of fruit, I think. It's better than nothing."

Wilma stood still, so taut with repressed anger and worry that she was almost vibrating. "Come on," he whispered, going on past her, heading back toward their former hiding place.

She turned and followed him. "Buck, we _have_ to stay together. No matter what. Don't take off by yourself."

"You didn't want to wait out daylight with no supplies, either. I could tell that when you said it. Besides, I'm thirsty."

Giving up argument for the moment, she trotted along beside him. Once they reached the tight thicket they had taken residence in before, they stopped and sat down. Buck opened the pack and divided his stolen goods equally. He opened a water bottle, took a long drink, and flinched. "What's wrong with the water? For that matter, what's wrong with the woods and our ship? Even the _sun_ looks strange."

She had seized a water bottle herself. The water wasn't quite standard tasting to her, not like the Searcher's, but it wasn't far off. She just hoped it was safe for them. She didn't have her scanner with her. She knew the mangolams were safe, but she hadn't checked out the local water yet. Still, she was thirsty after their high-speed escape, and he had to be as well. They would have to risk it; getting dehydrated would hardly help their efficiency.

She looked over at Buck now. "I know it's all strange for you, Buck. I am sorry."

"What about stopping apologizing and starting explaining? We're doing nothing but waiting for dark now. What's your excuse at the moment? What is it you're trying to hide from me, Wilma?"

In the next moment, her concern skyrocketed as he closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead. "Is the headache getting worse?"

He opened his eyes again. "It's actually a little better except when I'm trying to remember things. That revs it back up every time."

"You still don't remember anything?"

He shook his head. "It goes straight from freezing on my spaceship to waking up in that room with you. Wilma, _what_ is happening?"

She hesitated, and he started to get to his feet. "I'll just go ask them."

"No!" She rocketed up and latched onto his arm with both hands. "We _can't_ be separated. Not now, not with things like this."

"Then start talking."

She knew she wasn't going to be able to stall him any longer. She didn't exactly not want to tell him; she just wanted to handle this right this time, unlike the first time around, and break the news to him as gently as she could. But time for strategizing had run out. He was getting too suspicious.

"Let's have a mangolam first; got to keep our strength up. Then I'll tell you."

"What's a mangolam?"

"These fruit. You'll like it a lot better than the water, Buck." She bit into one. "Come on. I'll tell you now; I promise."

He took a mangolam dubiously and bit into it. Wilma, watching him, was treated to one of those unstated moments she encountered occasionally that more than anything spoken reminded her that Buck was from a different time. His reaction to the fruit now was quite different from that first experience back with Anderin. Not that he disliked it; in fact, he finished it off easily, no negative reactions as with the water. But he wasn't extremely impressed as he had been earlier, either. Nothing in this delectable sweetness struck him as unusual. He _expected_ food to taste like this.

It was no wonder, if flavors like this were his baseline frame of reference, that he disliked food disks.

He took his last bite and glared at her. "All right, Wilma. Start talking."

She took a deep breath and began.


	6. Chapter 6

Buck sat there with every nerve keyed up, waiting. If she didn't provide some answers for him this time, he really was going to ask one of those people back there for their version of what was going on. He had had enough of the stalling.

"When you were frozen, it put you in a form of suspended animation. Your ship was knocked off your original course into a wider one and continued to drift," she began.

"How long was it before NASA rescued me?" he asked.

She still looked hesitant, even while finally speaking. "They didn't rescue you, Buck."

He looked around. "But we're here. I don't think this is a dream."

"No, it's not a dream. You were rescued, but it wasn't by NASA."

Who else was there? "The Russians? There weren't many other countries with space capabilities. You speak English fluently, though." He tensed up. "Look, if I wasn't rescued by NASA, has anybody told my family and friends that I'm okay? My parents will be frantic, especially my mother. There's a woman waiting for me. There are people out there who care about me, who will be worrying about me."

Wilma flinched, and he wondered why. "They aren't worrying about you, Buck," she said in a tone that he couldn't quite read. "It's not 1987 anymore. Your ship drifted for a very long time before you were found."

"What year is it?" he demanded.

Finally, he got an answer to that question. "It's early 2493."

His eyes widened. But that was . . .

Over 500 years.

Over _500 years!_

If that was true, they had to be dead. All of them. His mother, whom he had assured there was no real risk, even while he knew at the time he said it that space was hardly as safe as a walk in the park. His siblings. Toby, joking with him that Buck had better enjoy his moment in the spotlight, because he was determined that _he_ , Toby, would be awarded the next mission. Jennifer, whom he had promised, really meaning it, that he would never go away again after this flight.

All of them. Everything he knew. It was gone. And even before it was all gone, he had been dead to them. They had grieved him, no doubt held his funeral. But he hadn't been able to attend theirs.

500 years. He became aware of Wilma's hand on his arm, and he met her eyes again, reading unmistakable sympathy.

"Then everybody is dead?" he asked finally.

"Everyone you knew back then, yes. I'm sorry, Buck."

He looked away. The silence lengthened around them. Finally, he shook himself slightly and tried to grasp details, something to try to ground himself and keep from feeling like he was completely drifting. "Earth," he said numbly. "What's happened to earth? It doesn't feel right at all. And what's the Earth Federation?" He nodded toward the patch on her arm.

"The Federation is the governing body on earth now."

" _The_ governing body? There's only one?"

"Yes. The planet became united. But we aren't on earth, Buck."

He reacted less strongly to that idea than he had to the death of everyone he knew. "So there _is_ life on other planets?" She nodded. "I always believed that, but we had no proof. Where are we?"

"The planet is called Mangolia. Those people are Mangolians. We came here on a diplomatic mission, and they had set a trap for us and kidnapped us. The androids work for them."

"We came here. So we work together?" She nodded again. "How long have we known each other?"

"Two years."

Two years? He racked his brain, trying desperately to coax anything from that frustrating gap. All he did was make the headache get worse again. There was nothing, not even a flicker, between freezing on Ranger and waking up in that room with Wilma. "So we came here from earth?" he asked. "That little ship has enough range to travel between planets?"

"No, actually. It's fairly short range. There's a bigger ship up there in orbit called the Searcher. We both are assigned to it. We took the shuttle from it this morning and flew down to the planet. If we can get in that shuttle tonight, we'll go straight back, too. I'm hoping our doctor will know some way to help you remember."

"Is it from earth?"

"Yes. Almost all of the crew is human, and it was commissioned by earth."

He was scrambling mentally. Space ships. Interplanetary travel. This was like waking up in the middle of an episode of Star Trek.

Except for the fact that all of his people were dead. That part was far from science fiction.

"So did this new Federation rescue me then? How did I get working with you?"

She was trying, he could tell. Obviously, there was too much to tell him everything, not in the current circumstances, at least. If she had two years' worth of recent history, she would have to compress some for the moment. He understood that. After thinking for a moment, she said, "Your ship was found drifting by some people called the Draconians. They thawed you out and woke you up, and then they sent you on to earth with a spy chip in your shuttle."

"So they were enemies?"

"Right. Only they were pretending to be friends. You arrived at earth, and we were all trying to figure out what was going on. You had no idea what century it was at first, just that earth was so different."

"How was it different?" he asked.

She paused briefly again. "There was a nuclear holocaust not long after your ship took off. Most of the planet was destroyed. A lot of it is still a wasteland; it's taken centuries to rebuild the cities to a point where we had some self sufficiency and were able to move on past mere survival to starting exploration."

"So most of my people . . .?"

"They probably didn't live much longer than a year after your flight," she confirmed.

He looked down at his hands, imagining his family and friends dying quickly and in terror, not even living out long and happy lives. His parents. Jennifer.

He jolted back to this unfamiliar present after a minute. "What about these Draconians?"

"When we found the spy sensor on your ship, we thought you were a spy for the pirates. There were pirates disrupting our food shipping lanes, and the Draconians were coming to sign a treaty to protect us. Only the pirates _were_ the Draconians."

He nodded, understanding that. "So nobody believed me."

She looked unmistakably guilty. "A few people did. I didn't. You tried your best to warn us that you had seen fighters on that ship. The Draconians would have annihilated us. You basically went undercover, got onto their ship by playing a part, and sabotaged all their fighters. When they did try to attack, it didn't work."

He smiled, picturing that. He had always loved acting in school plays.

"After that," Wilma continued, "of course we trusted you. You refused to formally join the Defense Directorate because it was too many changes all at once, and you were still adjusting. But you did help us out a lot of times unofficially. About a year ago, the Searcher was commissioned. It was supposed to look through the galaxy for descendants of the people who had escaped earth centuries ago, trying to get away from a ruined planet."

He flinched at the description, and she noticed. "I'm sorry, Buck, but a lot of earth really is desolate now. I was offered second in command of the Searcher, and you decided to come along, too. I don't think you ever were quite happy on earth in that first year. It was so changed from what you remembered. You always seemed to like the missions away somewhere else, even risky ones. On the Searcher, you basically are the primary explorer. When we come up on a planet or a situation, you're the one who goes off ship to check it out. Sometimes with others going along, of course, but those missions are your special assignment. You're always eager to explore a new place."

His tone was wistful. "I've loved exploring ever since I was a kid. There was a big patch of woods near one house we rented for a year or so when I was eight. I spent hours out there. I think I knew every tree, and when I came home, Mom would ask what I'd discovered that day. She always said I'd be the first one to do something big someday and would get my name down in history. She was sure of it."

And he'd thought the fulfillment of that prophecy was going to be Ranger. Instead, he was the first to be transported through time 500 years to a completely unfamiliar century. His mother didn't know. Because she was dead.

Unable to take any more of this at the moment, he came restlessly to his feet and paced a short distance away. Wilma kept her eyes glued to him - she really was watching him like a hawk all day, so closely it was almost annoying - but she didn't follow. He stopped and looked up at the sky. This alien sun was going down now, still providing daylight but not at the intensity it had earlier. Just on the horizon, two moons were starting to rise, dual white slivers in a sky that was the wrong shade of blue. He looked at them blankly. Two moons were no more strange than anything else around him.

He was on another planet. He was millions of miles and 500 years from home. Even if one of those gaps could be traveled, the other couldn't. Silent tears ran down his cheek as he stood there.


	7. Chapter 7

"Searcher calling Captain Rogers and Colonel Deering. Come in, please." Devlin got the same response he had received every other time for hours: Nothing. He shook his head and looked back at Admiral Asimov. "There's something wrong, sir."

"I agree," Hawk said. "Both of them have portable communicators. For both to go out at once mechanically is unlikely."

Asimov sighed. "We were asked to only send a party of two down so as not to overwhelm them; the people aren't used to interplanetary visitors. But I agree, too." He looked at Hawk. "You're the best choice to go try to find them, but . . ." The Mangolians had also asked for two representatives who were pure humans, stating that humans seemed to look the closest to their own anatomy, judging from video.

Hawk nodded. "I will wear a cloak with a hood."

Devlin straightened up suddenly. "Admiral, there is a message coming in from Premier Anderin."

Asimov came to attention, and Hawk backed away to the side, out of view as Devlin turned the vidcom on. "Premier Anderin, I am glad to hear from you. We are having some difficulty communicating with our people."

"Yes, I know. That's why I called. They asked me to give you this message," Anderin replied smoothly. "They were having some trouble with the transmitter on their shuttle, and it wasn't boosting the signal."

Asmov nodded. The portable communicators that away teams carried from the Searcher had limited range and needed to be within 50 kilometers of a stronger matching signal, such as on the shuttle, that they were calibrated to piggyback on. "That makes sense, but couldn't they have used your communicator to tell us that themselves?"

"They wanted to try to fix their shuttle before tonight's ceremonial banquet. They've been there most of the afternoon. I actually had hoped they would have it fixed by now, but they just sent a message by one of my people that it was taking longer than expected and to please let you know what was going on."

"Well, when they do come to the banquet, I'd appreciate talking to them at some point tonight. Use your equipment even if not ours."

"I will let them know as soon as I see them," Anderin replied. The vidcom winked out.

Asimov sighed. "I do not trust that one," Hawk said.

Asimov looked back at him. "He sounds a bit nervous, but this is a first contact mission, first physical contact, anyway. We are supposed to be carefully putting our best foot forward. Maybe he just doesn't like being the bearer of bad news, afraid of how we'll react." Diplomacy was an annoying line to walk at times.

"Wonder why the shuttle communicator is out?" Devlin said.

"Bedebedebe. Maybe they hit another ion storm," Twiki suggested.

"They do have them here and there on Mangolia," Asimov mused. "I'm still uneasy, but let's give it a few more hours. If I don't talk to them personally tonight, I will send you down to check on them, Hawk, and I don't care what the Mangolians think of it."

"Buck can take care of himself," Twiki stated.

Hawk nodded. That much was true, but he still did not trust Anderin. Something about the man seemed off to his bird instincts.


	8. Chapter 8

The stars were out now, totally unfamiliar stars in unrecognized constellations. Buck studied them, trying again to wrap his head around the fact that he was in the 25th century and on another planet. It was easier to think about that, even with the shock, than to think about everybody he'd ever known being dead.

A nuclear holocaust, she had said. They would have died horribly. His parents, his siblings, Toby, Jennifer. Everybody.

Of course, he had only Wilma's story on all this, nobody else's yet. But there was no way she could have added a moon and rearranged the stars. He sighed.

She had been quiet for the last few hours, letting him think and just answering his occasional question, but now, she looked at the stars herself. "We'd better have another few mangolams. We'll get going in a short while."

He settled down across from her and took one of the fruit. The things weren't bad, though he still couldn't decide if they were a cross between an apple and a peach or a cross between a plum and a peach. He did wish for something besides the fruit, but whatever the 25th-century version of McDonald's was, there obviously wasn't one in these woods.

Wilma was eating her mangolams with relish, even in these circumstances. She apparently didn't mind an all-fruit diet herself. She looked up at the sky again. "The Searcher is going to be getting worried about us. I wonder what Anderin has told them. We were supposed to be doing a tour of their capital city all afternoon and then having a ceremonial banquet tonight, but the Searcher would have expected an update by now."

A ceremonial banquet sounded good. "Wonder if they would have had anything besides these fruit at that banquet," he mused.

Wilma sighed and shook her head. "The mangolams are delicious, Buck. They're a treat. It's the best thing about this planet, easily."

"They're pretty good," he agreed, "but variety is the spice of life. You do have other things besides fruit on the menu in this century, don't you?"

"Yes. The mangolams are a specialty of this planet. We don't have them ourselves." She finished off her container of water. "Now, when we head back to the shuttle, we're going to be moving as quietly as we can, slipping up behind. They're bound to notice us before long, but we'll do our best to even the odds before getting into a full battle. Take out the people first; they command the androids, and hopefully the androids will be a little less efficient fighting back without a leader. We'll just hit the people on the head." He reached up again to rub that knot where he had been struck. "With the androids, we have to damage their circuitry. Dig in, try to get through the skin and disrupt some wires, like we did earlier with the guards. There should be major wires running through the neck. If all else fails, shoot them, but leave that as a last resort. Once we have a clear path to the shuttle, make a run for it."

"You have the keys to that thing?" he asked. "It seemed to be locked."

She pulled out an access card from her pocket. "You should have one, too." He investigated and found it quickly.

"Those people didn't search our pockets when they captured us?" he asked.

"No, thankfully. They took our weapons and the communicators off our belts, but they didn't look for anything else. They don't seem that efficient at kidnapping people. I think they're fairly new at it."

"Well, let's not give them more practice," he said.

She smiled. "By the way, is that ship bulletproof?" he asked. She looked puzzled. "Will their weapons damage it?"

A look of concern crossed her face. "It's got light shielding, but it isn't designed to stand up against heavy laser fire. I wish we had a starfighter; that's much better armored."

"That's the ship meant to fight if it has to?" he asked. She nodded. "Why don't we have a starfighter with us?"

"Because this was purely a diplomatic mission."

"Somebody forgot to tell them," he replied. "We were carrying weapons ourselves, you said."

"That's standard procedure. We weren't thinking of these people as a threat, but there can be wild animals, for instance. We always carry weapons ourselves."

"But even though we have a ship that can dish it out if required, we don't use it all the time?"

"Believe it or not, Buck, most of our diplomatic missions are very routine. You've called them boring more times than I can count. There's no need to take a starfighter every time. Although you do have a tendency to have things get interesting around you more often than most people do." She smiled fondly.

"So the ship itself doesn't have any weapons?" he asked.

"Not that one, no."

"If we make it inside, they're going to turn their fire on it and try to disable it."

She looked worried. "I can't think of a better plan. Can you?"

"Nope," he conceded.

"We'll just have to take off as quickly as possible and get out of range in a hurry. The engines warm up fairly quickly."

She looked at her chronometer again in the double moonlight and stood. "All right. Let's go. And please, Buck, try to stay close to me. We can't get separated right now. We have to make it inside that shuttle together. I'm not taking off without you."

He came to his feet as well. Staying silent, the two of them started back through the woods toward the shuttle.


	9. Chapter 9

The guards around the shuttle hadn't decreased in number, but they had decreased in alertness. Among the people, some were leaning against trees, others talking softly. A few androids remained, but even those, taking their cue from their makers, were not sharply focused on their task at the moment.

Perfect, Buck thought. He slipped up behind the nearest tree-leaning guard, and as he smashed the butt of his weapon down, he hoped that this might even be the one who had clocked him earlier. The man crumpled silently, and Buck pulled him back into the trees. Wilma had similarly taken out another at the next tree, but she was still watching Buck like a hawk and kept looking back at him even as they selected new targets.

They took out three each before someone realized a problem. "Where's Cinto?" one asked. "Everyone over here." The group assembled, definitely a bit smaller, and they started calling the roll.

"Now," Wilma hissed at Buck's shoulder. The knot of guards was to one side, not in front of the shuttle door. She pulled out her access card and then launched herself into the clearing in a full sprint. Buck was right with her.

"There they are!" The shout was heard just as she inserted the card and the hatch opened. A flurry of shots was fired, but the guards didn't take time to aim, and most of them missed and hit the shuttle's skin, with one notable exception. One shot sailed straight through the open door, going right between Wilma and Buck as they ducked inside. There was a snap and sizzle of circuitry from the control panel. In the next moment, Wilma had hit the panel to close the door.

She ran to the pilot's seat and turned on the engines. Buck settled in the chair next to her, looking at the panel with interest. Even if this was their less-impressive ship, it was quite a bit more advanced than Ranger. He reached out to the scorched area where that one shot had hit. "I hope this wasn't anything vital."

Wilma groaned. "It's the main communication panel."

"Could be worse," Buck said. "The engines seem to be working, although they could do it a little faster."

"Almost warmed up enough," she replied, worry in her tone. They could hear shots ricocheting off the shuttle outside. Buck wondered what power level the Mangolians were using. Fine line to walk here, trying to disable the ship without harming the potential slaves inside. Whatever level it was, they seemed to be turning it up now. The shuttle trembled.

Wilma threw the handle forward, and the small craft neatly lifted off. Now the Mangolians gave it everything in a final flurry of laser fire. The shuttle shook and wavered, and Wilma steadied it. "They've hit one of the engines."

"Great," Buck said. "Tell me again why we didn't bring a starfighter because this was just a diplomatic mission."

Wilma ignored him, reaching instead for the blackened control panel. "Searcher, this is Colonel Deering. Come in." Even Buck, unfamiliar with the technology, could tell that that whole section was dead. Wilma gave up and returned both hands to the controls. The vibration in the shuttle was increasing as they flew low over the trees, and the ship seemed to be having trouble gaining altitude. "Stabilizers are gone, too," she grumbled. "I don't think we're going to make it back into space." She turned, trying to at least put distance between them and the city. The ship protested the maneuver. Alarm lights were going off. "Buck, it's going to take both of us to hold her steady."

The words seemed to echo around Buck's aching skull. He had said those words once; he was sure of it. A ship like this one, also bucking against human control. Terrain coming up too fast below them. Who had he said them to? He had vague memories of the situation but not of the people with him.

"Buck!" Wilma's sharp voice broke the spell, and he jumped. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah." He reached for the other stick. Plenty on the ship looked strange, but it felt familiar to his hands. Together, they tried to keep the nose up, but the vibration was increasing, and the power wasn't. Altitude was getting progressively lower. "We'd better get out of the trees unless we want to take a few of them with us. What about that big clearing over there?" A bare patch was showing in the shuttle lights.

"Good a place as any." It took both of them, with the shuttle fighting, to make the turn. The alarm lights were increasing. They did their best to hold the nose up, and the shuttle crashed onto its belly, sliding along and finally coming to a hard standstill against a rock.

Buck released the stick. Wilma sighed and switched off what engines she had left. Once again, she tried the communications panel. "Searcher, this is Deering. Come in, please!"

Nothing. "We didn't get that far," Buck said.

"No," she agreed. "They'll be coming after us." She turned away from the panel and stood. "Come here."

He followed her to the rear section of the ship, and she opened a panel. "These are portable communicators. They have to boost off a signal like on this ship, so they won't work now, but if the Searcher sends someone down for us, they are calibrated to any of its craft. If anybody looking gets within 50 kilometers of us, it will work. That's probably our best chance at this point, to wait for help." She handed him one and took another herself. The rest of the contents of the bin were weapons, and she gave him another, now giving them two each.

Buck looked at the door. "They're going to burn through that door when they catch up with us. Leaving now might be better than fighting it out here."

"Yes." She picked up one other thing, an odd-looking sort of disc, and handed him two, pocketing two herself. "Food discs," she explained at his look of confusion.

"Food discs?" He studied one. It didn't resemble any meal he recognized.

"It's all we've got, and yes, you don't like them. Now you'll regret complaining about the mangolams. Let's go."

They opened the door cautiously, but no Mangolians had appeared yet. Hopefully, their short flight had gained them a little more time. Buck went down the ramp and looked around the clearing as best as he could in the dark. Two moons increased moonlight, at least.

"Come on." Wilma picked a direction and set off, and he followed her. They had only made it about half a mile when they ran straight into a party coming toward the site of the crash. These weren't the same ones from earlier; the Mangolians had sent out word for reinforcements. They came over a hill and encountered them abruptly, head on, and there wasn't even time to dodge.

Wilma was hit in the first flurry and collapsed. Buck, with a weapon in each hand as he stood over her, did his best, but the odds were hopeless. He never heard the bolt that hit him, but every nerve in his body suddenly fired with overload, and then his world went black. He didn't even feel the ground when he hit it.


	10. Chapter 10

Hawk never allowed himself to pace; he was too fiercely self controlled to give in to the impulse. But mentally, he was pacing right now, even though he looked like he was standing still on the Searcher's bridge. It was moments like this when it was most difficult to remind himself that he was on probation still, was supposed to be obeying orders here, and he couldn't just go ahead and take off for that planet with zero consideration for the intricacies of diplomacy. Something had happened to Buck and Wilma. He was certain of it, all his instincts going off at full volume.

Fortunately, the admiral was getting close to that decision himself. Hopefully the diplomatic front would be dropped soon, and Hawk would be authorized to go down to the planet, regardless of the Mangolians' xenophobia, though he would take precautions.

Devlin came to attention. "There's a message coming in from Premier Anderin, sir."

Hawk moved over again, out of sight, as Asimov said, "On screen."

If Anderin had looked nervous before, it was far worse now. His fingers were visibly fidgeting. "Admiral, I have some bad news."

"Where are our people and why haven't we heard from them?" Asimov demanded.

"I'm afraid there's been an accident."

"An accident? What kind of accident? We can send a medical team down if needed."

"No." Anderin's lips twitched. "They were on the way back to the city from their shuttle. It wasn't fixed yet, but they were coming to the banquet. Two of my people were with them. A large pack of salas attacked; it's a wild animal we have on Mangolia. My people were injured, but I'm afraid Colonel Deering and Captain Rogers were killed."

A few people on the bridge gasped. Asimov was rocked, but he pressed on immediately. "If that is the case, we will want to retrieve their bodies, of course."

"I'm afraid that's not possible. The salas dragged them off."

"Then how can you be certain they are dead?" Asimov protested.

"The report from my people who were with them . . . there is no question that they were dead before reinforcements arrived to scare off the animals. The salas seized the bodies and took them with them as they ran. I'm afraid that . . . there wouldn't be much left by this point."

Twiki pushed in. "Bedebedebe. Now just a minute, buster!"

"Quiet, Twiki," Asimov ordered. "Premier, I would like to hear direct statements from the Mangolians who were with them."

"They are being treated for their injuries. I'm not sure when they will be ready to talk to you."

"We will wait, of course. Meanwhile, there is the question of our shuttle. May we send someone down to retrieve it?"

Anderin jumped as if that thought hadn't occurred to him. "We were hoping to make it a memorial to them," he blurted out. "We so regret how this whole episode has turned out. We are afraid of another accident if anyone else came down; perhaps we are just meant to continue as an isolated people. I should have warned your officers more of the dangers of this world. You have my deepest apologies, Admiral."

"We will consider that request. Right now, I'm sure you will understand that we need some time to absorb what has happened. We will be in touch. Searcher out." Asimov nodded at Devlin, and the screen went black.

Twiki fired up immediately. "Bedebedebede. I won't believe it until I see the bodies."

"He's lying," Hawk said firmly.

Asimov sighed. "Yes, he is. There's obviously something sinister going on here. Of course, we aren't going to abandon them without unquestionable proof, but I think it might be better to seem to be accepting their story at the moment."

"We could send down a full party in starfighters," Devlin suggested. "Find Anderin and demand to know the truth."

"But if Buck and Wilma are in danger," Hawk said, "bursting in with a frontal attack in force when we don't know where they are or in what circumstances could backfire. They might be harmed before we even reached them. We must have more information." His look at Asimov was as near a plea as he ever got.

Asimov nodded. "Go ahead, Hawk. But be careful. And don't trust any of them, not on anything."

"I will be aware." Hawk gave one of his half smiles. "I will not trust them at all. I am no diplomat. And I will find Buck and Wilma." He turned and left the bridge with an eager stride. Finally, he could do something to help. The waiting was over.

BRBRBR

Wilma woke up slowly, her whole body aching. Being hit with a stun bolt might not do any permanent damage, but it was hardly pleasant, either. She was lying on the floor of a room, and she pushed herself up faster than her recovering body would have liked. Desperately, she looked around.

She was alone. The Mangolians might be inexperienced at kidnapping, but they clearly could learn from their mistakes, and she and Buck had been separated this time. A quick pat down of her uniform revealed that the new communicator had also disappeared, as well as the weapons, of course. The pockets had been searched this time. They had left her the food discs.

She pulled herself to her feet and began pacing the walls of her prison, partly to walk off the final effects of the stun bolt and partly because she was too agitated to stay still. Buck. She had to get out of here, had to find him. This room also lacked an alcove next to the door, no place to hide for a sneak attack. It was completely bare.

She paced around and around, her thoughts going in circles as much as her feet were. What was happening to Buck? Was he all right? She needed to watch him closely; he had seemed to zone out for a few moments back there on the shuttle. She still wasn't convinced that he was completely okay, memory aside.

Around and around. She was on the far side of the room when the door swished open, and Anderin stepped in. He had four androids with him, and all had their weapons out. He was taking no more chances. "I hope you are feeling better, Colonel," he said smoothly. "I regret that our men had to shoot you."

Wilma glared at him. "Where is Captain Rogers?" she demanded.

"Oh, he's all right. Still unconscious, last I heard, but he will recover, just as you are."

She walked up to face her captor directly. "You don't understand, Premier. He was hurt back when you first seized us. It is essential that we not be separated right now; I need to keep an eye on him."

Anderin smiled. "Nice try, Colonel. Captain Rogers hardly appeared injured when the two of you were escaping and shooting your way out of this building, or when you recaptured your shuttle. I'm afraid you'll never see him again; we simply can't afford to leave you together. But he is clearly as healthy as you are, so stop pretending to worry."

Wilma gritted her teeth. "I'm not making this up, Premier. He _is_ injured."

Anderin shook his head. "Don't bother, Colonel. You're wasting your time. Besides, he will be given a full medical exam, the same as you, before we get started. We will make sure he is in good shape, though he obviously is."

"But you don't . . . you aren't familiar with humans at all, just what you've picked up in communications, and even if you were, he's not quite the same medically as the rest of us. You don't even know how to treat me for things, much less him."

Anderin came to attention, appearing more disturbed than at any time so far in this conversation. "He's not the same? But we specified a party of two humans. Pure humans."

"He _is_ pure human. But he's over 500 years old; he comes from another time. He was accidentally frozen back centuries ago and only found and revived a few years ago. Physiology has changed a little over the centuries, adjusting after things like the holocaust."

Anderin looked fascinated. "So he is actually a _purer_ form of human than you yourself? An earlier model? Oh, that's excellent."

Wilma was tempted to charge at him, even though she knew she had no chance at all with four weapons on her. "Premier, this is _not_ a game or some experiment for you. We are people with rights, and you cannot do this. And I assure you, I will not cooperate with being a slave, and Buck certainly won't. If you think we've been trouble so far, you haven't seen anything yet."

"A slave?" Anderin sounded offended. "Oh, Colonel, we have no intentions of making the two of you slaves. We have our androids to perform any kind of labor we need. No, we need you for something we can't get ourselves. You aren't going to be slaves but scientific specimens."


	11. Chapter 11

Wilma stared, both shocked and furious. "Scientific specimens?" she protested. "You're going to _dissect_ us?"

Anderin shook his head. "Now, Colonel, that shouldn't be necessary. In fact, it would be contraindicated; a living source regenerates itself. We have no wish to kill you; we simply need to study you. Really, you're making this so much harder on yourselves than it has to be. You should have a very comfortable and well-kept life, and you will be valued highly. We are a very _civilized_ people."

Wilma couldn't believe her ears. "You call this _civilized_? Inviting people here under false pretenses and then making us hostages? Don't you have any concept of individual rights? We're people, and you can't keep us in a cage."

Anderin sounded offended. "Of course we have a concept of individual rights. We would never suggest doing this to another Mangolian. You, however, do not fall under our articles of statement regarding citizens. And like I said, you will _not_ be mistreated."

Wilma was practically sputtering. "You _cannot_ do this. Do you really think the Searcher won't notice we've disappeared?"

"I've already spoken to your ship and informed them that very unfortunately, you were attacked and killed by a pack of salas, who dragged your bodies away."

She didn't challenge that, but hope started rising. The Searcher would not accept a statement like that from a total stranger without extensive proof. They would challenge it, investigate it. Help was on the way if it only could find them. No doubt the admiral would send down Hawk, one of the most suspicious beings Wilma had ever encountered, and no Mangolian lie was apt to fool him.

Hawk. With sudden dread, she replayed every conversation she'd had with Buck since he lost his memory. Had she mentioned Hawk to him? She couldn't recall doing so. The Searcher, yes, but nothing about Hawk. Buck, trapped in a totally unfamiliar world, had hesitated to trust even her. How would he react if he ran into Hawk, especially after the day they had had so far? He was as apt to shoot the arriving help (assuming he could escape and get his hands on a weapon) as he was to be rescued by it, and Hawk, not realizing what was wrong, wouldn't be on guard and wouldn't approach him carefully.

Anderin continued. "Really, Colonel, cooperation is your best option. Things will go so much more easily. And again, we have no intentions of hurting you. You are quite valuable to us; you and Captain Rogers hopefully are going to save our people."

"Save you from _what_?" Wilma demanded.

Anderin sighed. "There is a virus ravaging our people. All of our medical scientists have been unable to make any progress on defeating it. We have always been a small society, strict limits on offspring so that we do not overrun our resources, and the current agreed-upon theory by the scientists is that the small size of our gene pool has over centuries weakened our immunities. They wish to try infusion of some new tissue, assuming that other species are immune to this virus that is slowly killing us. So we researched other races; we have had communication into space for quite a while, you know. Humans to all appearances are the most similar to us and the most likely to be able to assist us."

This conversation kept getting more unbelievable to Wilma. "It didn't occur to you to simply _ask_ for help? The galaxy is full of medical scientists, Anderin. We would be glad to help you study and defeat this virus."

"We are a very proud people," Anderin replied. "For decades, we have refused any visitors from other worlds and always have insisted that we are self sufficient. We can solve our own problems."

"So you would rather subject other beings to _slavery_ than admit that you need help?" she protested.

"Slavery is such a harsh word. You are not needed for work, and you will not be mistreated."

"You just intend to use us as breeding stock? That's its own form of slavery, Anderin, just as much as physical labor."

"Hopefully everything can be accomplished in the lab. You will not actually have to go through the process. We just need genetic material from you. First, of course, we'll have to work out whether you are indeed immune to this virus, and then we'll go from there."

"You mentioned selling us," Wilma reminded him. "If that's not slavery, what do you call it?"

"Unfortunately, there is a disagreement among our scientists as to finer details of how to proceed and also as to who would get the credit and the offered reward for defeating the virus. This seemed the best way of settling that question fairly and showing no favoritism among them. You will go to separate buyers, so two different methods of study will be being employed, and our scientists are very motivated to solve our problem. You will _not_ be harmed, Colonel. You should have a very pleasant rest of your life." He looked at his chronometer. "I must leave you now. Get some rest, Colonel, and again, I apologize that we had to shoot you. In the morning, you will be sold to one of our scientists at auction." He turned and left the room, the androids backing out carefully to keep her covered.

Wilma resumed her pacing. She had to get out of here somehow, find Buck, and make their escape. And how was he? Was he all right? The walls gave her no answers.


	12. Chapter 12

Buck opened his eyes, then squeezed them shut again. The lights in this century still looked strange to them. Cautiously, he cracked them open once more and pushed himself up on one elbow to survey his current location.

Yes, he was waking up in another of those small rooms, the only difference being that this one didn't contain Wilma. He was completely alone.

He finished sitting up and ran one hand across his forehead. The headache he'd had all day today, assuming that this was still the same horrible day, had kicked back up to King Kong level. It had been starting to retreat to just annoying, but it obviously didn't think much of being shot with a stun gun. The rest of his body joined it in that opinion. He ran his hand back again to the swelling where he had been stuck. Yes, still there. At least on this awakening, he remembered things from today up until he had been shot out in the woods. The big gap, the one between freezing on Ranger and waking up with Wilma bending over him, remained.

Buck hauled himself to his feet and started walking laps of his prison, trying to shake off the feeling that he had a beehive inside him. If this was what being shot on stun did, he wouldn't wish it on many people.

The Mangolians were among that small population. He'd gladly shoot any of them, first chance he got. If nothing else, he was completely convinced by now from events that Wilma had told him the truth and that she alone was on his side at the moment. This planet was full of enemies.

Wilma. He had to find her. They had to get out of here. The little room offered no answers or strategies, however.

He wondered what time it was and how long he had been out. He seemed to have some type of watch buckled around his left wrist, but he had no idea how to read the flashing lights. The communicator and weapons were gone, of course. The food discs had been left to him, and he took an experimental nibble of one, then shoved it back into his pocket in disgust. It tasted like scientifically created food that had been assembled in a lab rather than grown.

He tried pushing into the black void in his memory, but he gained nothing. Just for a moment, back there on the shuttle, he had had a fragment of memory, but nothing else seemed inclined to join it. He sighed.

The door opened, and Buck turned. A Mangolian entered, accompanied by four armed androids. Buck ignored the guards and studied the man himself. He recognized him, not the individual but the type. This was a prime specimen of leader without a conscience. The man was dangerous.

"Ah, Captain Rogers, I'm glad to see you have woken up with no ill effects."

The man seemed to expect Buck to know him. Buck didn't correct that assumption. "Where is Wilma?" he demanded.

"Oh, she's unharmed. I was just talking to her and making my apologies. The two of you are quite valuable to us; we have no desire to hurt you. But it's clearly too dangerous to leave you together. Don't bother making up some story like she did, trying to tell me that one of you was hurt back when we first seized you. Both of you are the picture of health. Quite satisfactory, actually." He surveyed Buck like he might have picked out a steak in the meat department at the grocery store.

"If you think we're going to cooperate with you . . ." Buck started.

The man interrupted him. "Yes, yes, I know. I heard your speech already from Colonel Deering. Things would be _so_ much simpler if you would accept the fact that you are outnumbered." He looked at his wrist. "I must leave you. I have many duties, and you have already complicated this day. Get some rest, Captain, and I hope you have a comfortable night. Tomorrow, we will proceed with our plan."

"What plan?" Buck demanded. "And if you think this" - he waved a hand at the room - "is a spot to give me a comfortable night, you're mistaken. You don't seem at all concerned with our comfort so far."

The man considered. "You do have a point. I guess it would do no harm to move you and the Colonel from a holding room into more comfortable quarters. We do want you in peak condition tomorrow for the auction."

"Auction?" Buck sputtered. "Now wait a minute! You can't just sell us like cattle."

The man looked momentarily confused. "What are cattle? Well, it doesn't matter." He turned to the androids. "Move him to room 3A. Be very careful to keep him covered at all times. Then return to my office, and I will give you instructions for moving Colonel Deering. Good night, Captain." He turned and left.

One of the androids gestured with his weapon. "You will move," he said in a flat mechanical voice.

"What if I don't?" Buck asked.

"We will shoot you and move you ourselves," the android replied, still with no expression at all in his words.

Buck sighed. His nerves were still humming already. Reluctantly, he accepted the fact that this wasn't the time to stage a revolt. He'd have to watch for a better opportunity. He moved out.

Room 3A was an improvement. It was a small apartment with two rooms and a bed. He paced around it as soon as he was alone, inspecting it for possibilities. None came to mind. No windows, no alcoves, no potential weapons. Finally, after pacing circles in it for more than an hour (he guessed), he took another few bites of a food disc and washed it down with a bottle of water. They had water on a small table. No mangolams. Probably, they had concluded that humans preferred the food discs since they were carrying them.

Buck remembered Wilma saying he disliked them. Wilma. Where was she, and what was happening to her? Even aside from escape plotting, he wished she were here just for company. She at least knew him.

He had no intentions of sleeping, but he finally lay down on the bed just to think horizontally. His legs still felt shaky. He wasn't even aware of moving from thinking into a deep sleep.

When he opened his eyes, he felt that several hours had passed, though the flashing lights on his wrist still gave him no clue. He sat up and took stock of the situation. He felt quite a bit better, actually. The sound sleep had done him good. The jangled nerves from the stun gun had vanished, and his headache from yesterday was also gone. Light pressure against the knot on his head was still painful, but as long as he left it alone, he felt all right.

Unfortunately, his memory hadn't returned. He pushed against the impersonal blackness, trying to penetrate it.

The door of the room opened, and the leader stepped in, accompanied by guards. "Well, Captain, I'm glad you had such a restful night. I can't say the same for Colonel Deering, but she did get some sleep." He interpreted Buck's expression. "Oh, yes, these rooms are monitored. We should have put you in a monitored room first thing yesterday. Now, let's get moving." The androids moved in meaningfully.

Buck sighed and stepped out into the hall. He fiercely paid attention, trying to memorize the route and layout as he was led through several other sections. This complex was huge. Finally, he was turned into a large auditorium. It was full of people, and there was a rustle of excitement as he entered. The androids guided Buck to a circle in the front of the room.

"Now, this one is a special treat," the leader said. "Even more so than the first one. This human is actually more than 500 years old, dating him from prior to their holocaust. He was frozen at that time and only recently revived. Thus, the genes are an even purer form, without modification due to the changes in environment. Pick up your keypads, please."

Keypads? Buck noticed that indeed, every member of the audience had keypads. There was no sound besides that of buttons being pushed. Somehow, this impersonal type of auction seemed even more offensive than a usual one with bids being called out.

Bids. Another fragment of memory swam up abruptly from that black hole in his mind. He could remember standing in a room in front of an audience of women and being sold like this. When? And what had happened then?

The leader smiled. "The highest bid has been arrived at. Thank you, and I wish you well in your studies. Captain Rogers will be taken to a holding room to be claimed."

Once again, Buck was led out into those halls. It was a short trip this time, and he was placed in another small, impersonal room and left alone. He paced circles, trying unsuccessfully to pull out any other memories and also wondering what would happen now. That auction, with not a word spoken besides the voice of the leader, had been disturbing. What was wrong with these people? Did any of them have a conscience? And who had bought Wilma, who apparently had already had her turn on the block? And where was she?

The door to the room opened while Buck was at the far end, and he whirled around. Two Mangolians, a man and a woman, entered. They were unaccompanied by androids. Buck sized up the situation and steeled himself for action. This could be his chance. Two to one were the best odds he'd seen so far on this planet.

Before he could charge, the man spoke first. "I am Karian, and this is my wife, Selin. We apologize for our people."


	13. Chapter 13

Buck paused, studying the two of them. "You apologize?"

"This never should have happened," Karian replied. "A few of us tried protesting, but most of the leaders and scientists agreed with Anderin." He looked around the room. "This room is unmonitored, but it will look suspicious if we spend too long claiming you. Please, Captain Rogers, come along with us, and we will talk further at our quarters. We are trying to help you. Selin and I bought you to give you your freedom back."

"What about my companion?" Buck demanded.

"We hoped to buy both of you, but unfortunately, the prices were higher than we could pay. In another bid, we would have lost you. She went for even more; there were obviously two bidders who truly wanted her."

"Who bought her? Where is she?"

Selin spoke up for the first time. "We don't know. Only the total bid was displayed, not who made it. The computer identified the keypad used, but the others in the room didn't realize unless the winner revealed his own identity. Please, Captain Rogers, we need to get out of here. This is not a safe place to talk at length."

"I'm not leaving without her," Buck insisted. He wasn't going to abandon Wilma into slavery, even if he had lucked out himself in his buyers. Also, there was the pesky fact that he _couldn't_ leave without her. The shuttle was crashed, he had no idea how to repair it, and he also wasn't sure how to contact that Searcher ship she had mentioned for help even if he found a communicator. Were there frequencies? Channels? Call signs? How could he get them while not including every Mangolian around?

"We will speak of this," Karian said. " _Please_ , come on."

It was the reiterated please, without weapons, that finally did it. Buck moved, and they opened the door. The three of them entered the hall.

After a few more turns and twists in this maze-like complex, they walked straight into the leader who had visited Buck earlier. He gave a cold smile. "Well, Karian, Selin, I see that your scruples bow before the chance of the reward after all. I wish you well with him. Do be careful, though; he has already escaped once."

"We will be careful with him, Anderin," Karian replied. The leader walked on, and Buck shook his head.

"I do _not_ like that man."

"Some of us agree with you. Not many, but some," Selin agreed. They came to a door and stepped out into the city, and Buck couldn't help looking around again. This place looked just as foreign as it had on his brief run through it yesterday. The buildings were too orderly, too symmetrical, and the dazzling whitewashed effect of everything was near blinding. Several androids were polishing buildings as they walked by.

Finally, they reached what was obviously an apartment building. Karian and Selin led the way to their own lodgings, and Buck spoke up as soon as the door closed behind them. "Now, what about Wilma? I'm going to break her out of here somehow, just as soon as you turn me loose."

Karian sighed. "I am sorry we couldn't buy both of you," he repeated. "It took all our savings just for you, and she was more than that. But we will do our best to help you locate her. Again, we apologize. It is unforgiveable to do what we have done to other beings. Our people are scared and desperate, but that's no excuse."

He sat down in a cluster of chairs, and Buck took another one. Selin had disappeared for a minute and then returned with a plate of mangolams and some water. "Have some refreshment," she offered.

Buck was tempted to turn her down in the urgency of the moment, but he was hungry, and he remembered the mangolams from yesterday. Talking while eating wasn't much slower than talking alone. He took a fruit. "You said you're scared and desperate. Why? What is going on?" He took a bite while waiting for the answer. The things were quite good, not champions in 20th-century taste terms, but they beat anything he could remember having in this century hollow.

"There is a virus racing out of control among our people," Karian answered. "We are medical scientists; everyone in that auction was. Nothing we have tried helps against it. Then a few of the others got the idea that the problem is our limited gene pool and that it has weakened us over centuries. We are a very small, isolated people, and population is strictly controlled."

The light was dawning for Buck. "So you want to try infusing some genes from a compatible species to increase your immune systems."

"Yes."

"You could ask for help. There are doctors and scientists around the galaxy - at least there should be in this century, I'd think. Surely they would help you. Any scientist loves a good challenge."

Karian nodded. "That was exactly my suggestion. However, Mangolia has spent decades telling other species that we are completely self sufficient, don't need contact, and only want to be left alone."

"This planet is too proud to admit you need help?" Buck couldn't believe it. "Everybody needs help sometimes. That's not a weakness; it's part of life."

"Again, we agree, Selin and I. Most of our people, unfortunately, do not."

"So they decided to set a trap for us and just take us without having to ask?"

"Yes. There are a few of us who objected. We tried to insist that other beings have rights, that this was _wrong_. But they wouldn't listen. Many of our people think that only people exactly like us have rights, that anyone different doesn't qualify."

Buck sighed. "I have to admit, humans have made that same mistake several times in history."

Selin had been looking thoughtful. "Captain Rogers, a minute ago, you said that you _thought_ there must be doctors and scientists in this century. Aren't you sure of it? Haven't you met several while flying around with your spaceship?"

Buck looked from one to the other of them. Oh, well, things couldn't get much worse than they had been going on this planet so far, and these two did seem sincere. He liked them. "I was hurt back when you first took us hostage. I got hit on the head. And now I don't remember anything from this century, only the part of my life from 500 years ago."

There was pure sympathy and concern in both of their expressions. "Are you feeling all right, Captain? Apart from the memory? We know next to nothing about humans, but we are both medical scientists, as I said."

Selin had already moved over next to him while Karian was speaking. "Where were you hit?" she asked. Buck ran a hand over the knot on the back of his head, and she gently felt around it. "The skin isn't broken, but this was a hard knock. I am so sorry, Captain."

"I'm actually feeling better today - except for not remembering. Yesterday, I had a headache, but that's gone now."

"Hopefully your memory will return," Karian said. "We apologize again, Captain."

"That's another reason why I _must_ find Wilma. She's the only one who knows how to contact our ship, how to fix our shuttle - I hope. She knows me. She told me about the Searcher, but I don't even remember that. All I have is what she had time to tell me. But even if I were perfectly fine, I will not leave her here with your people."

Karian was thinking. "We could try going back to central data and accessing the auction records to see if we can determine who bought her. Given the name, Selin and I would know where that scientist lives and also where he works. We will try to help you."

"Wait a minute," Buck said. "You already mentioned that you've spent all your savings on me, and that leader - you called him Anderin - was warning you about me when we met him. What's going to happen to you two when I escape and break Wilma out? He isn't going to believe it was an accident, not if you've protested doing this all along. You'll get in trouble."

Selin went over to her husband's side. Obviously, they had considered this thoroughly. "We will be arrested and imprisoned. But we will at least have a clear conscience. We cannot stand by and take part in what our people are doing."

"A clear conscience is worth a lot, but life and freedom are worth a lot, too." Buck thought it through. "Why don't you come with us?"

"Come with you?" Karian asked. It was clear from his tone that that possibility hadn't even occurred to them.

"Sure. You're scientists, you said. You can study your virus, humans, the galaxy, any of it. I'm sure there are all sorts of resources out there if I could only remember them. As long as you ask instead of just taking, most people will probably be glad to help you study things. And you'd probably be interesting to our scientists, too. It would be mutual."

"You would take us along after what we did to you?"

"You two haven't done anything to us. Your people did, but no individual is responsible for the sins of their whole society. Come on. It sounds like you'll be safer leaving with us than staying behind, but it also _will_ be interesting for you." Whatever was up on that Searcher ship, he had no doubt it would be interesting to scientists. His own curiosity about that was only a short step behind his frustration that he couldn't remember. "Of course, you would be saying goodbye to the only world you've known."

Karian and Selin held a silent conference with their eyes. Finally, in unison, they nodded. "We thank you for your offer, Captain Rogers. We would be honored to leave with you. Our world has not suited us for quite a while."

Buck smiled and stood up. "Now, we need to figure out who bought Wilma and where she is. Remember, unless we can find her, none of us are going anywhere. I'm not much help to you at the moment."

The Mangolians stood. "Let us hurry, then." Karian walked over and opened a drawer, removing three weapons. He handed one to Buck, another to Selin. "It would attract less attention, Captain Rogers, if it appeared that we were simply moving you to another location, such as our lab."

Buck pocketed his weapon and obligingly stepped out in front of them toward the door, letting them cover him. "One more thing, though."

"What?" Selin asked.

"My friends call me Buck." He smiled at the two of them and then opened the door to the apartment.


	14. Chapter 14

Wilma had thought that yesterday was one of the worst days of her life, but today so far was threatening to rival it.

She had barely slept, torn between worry over Buck and worry over their situation. They simply _had_ to escape, but it would be infinitely harder this second time. Not only were they separated now, but the Mangolians were learning from their mistakes and wouldn't be caught off guard as easily.

Then this morning had come the humiliation of the auction. It had lasted a while, apparently with spirited bidding, but standing in front of that silent assembly with the only sound the keystrokes had been deeply disturbing. This whole society felt so wrong to her now that she couldn't believe she had argued against the warning of Buck's instincts at first yesterday. If they could only get out of here, she vowed to never dismiss it again if he commented that something felt wrong.

Buck. Where was Buck? Was he all right? To her disappointment, she didn't catch a glimpse of him at the auction, either before or after her turn. She wasn't even sure if she had been first or second to be sold.

Afterward, she was taken to another holding room where she paced around and around, unable to stand still. Finally, the door opened. In stepped a Mangolian accompanied by two androids. The androids were armed and covering her from the first moment, but it was the Mangolian who worried her more. He was the tallest of his species she had seen yet and the heaviest, though it looked more flab than fitness. The eyes bothered her most of all. This man could give Anderin a contest in lack of conscience and quite possibly win it. His eyes were absolutely calculating, seeing her as an object, not a person, but there was a spark in them also that set off every bit of her woman's intuition.

"Hello, Colonel," he said. "I'm very glad to have bought you, and I'm looking forward to studying you. I'm going to get to know you very well. Move out." He waved a hand.

"Who bought my friend?" Wilma demanded.

He gave her a cold smile. "I don't know. I was only interested in you; I didn't stick around for him. Move, Colonel." He gestured to the androids, and they stepped forward, raising their weapons.

Wilma considered, then stepped out, resigned temporarily but still watching for any opportunity. Their route led through the big complex and then out into the city and across it. The house they came to was large and, like everything else, blindingly white. She imagined Buck's sarcastic comment that their captors needed to develop a sense of color.

Buck. She had kept looking around on their journey, trying to catch any glimpse or clue, but she saw no trace of him.

Her captor took her to a large room of the house, undeniably a bedroom from the furniture in it, and then ordered the androids out. He did take the weapon from one of them, and he kept her covered, attention never wavering. "Now, the experiments can start. We require some genetic contribution from a compatible species to raise our immunities. You seem quite qualified to provide that." He looked her up and down in a way that made her want to take a shower on the spot. "Remove your clothing."

"What?" She backed away a step, though he was already at a prudent distance, keeping her covered. "Anderin said that all the testing and harvesting of genes would be done in the lab."

"Anderin is a good leader, but he lacks imagination. He has no sense of, shall we say, pleasure. I, however, do. Why take the boring route to something when you can have so much more fun doing it other ways?" He smiled at her again. "Remove your clothing."

"Not until hell freezes over," she snapped, borrowing a phrase from Buck.

He sighed. "So you're going to insist on being difficult. All right; restraints can be provided." He pushed a button on his belt, and an android entered. He handed off the weapon. "Keep her covered," he said, and then he went to a drawer, withdrew a length of rope, and then came toward her.

Wilma let herself cringe back until she felt the wall behind her. She set her balance, ready to launch herself forward again off of it. Her new "owner" enjoyed the apparent fear as he came closer.

At the last moment, as his hands reached out, Wilma struck with everything she had. She was delighted to discover that the most sensitive part on a Mangolian male apparently was close to its counterpart on humans. In the next second, as the man doubled over in agony, she shoved him away from her and precisely into the line of fire as the android shot. The man crumpled to the floor, and Wilma dove sideways behind a chair. The android came on around, but he, like the Mangolians themselves, apparently didn't have much experience in hostage maneuvers. Wilma had slid back around behind him before he rounded the chair, and she knocked his legs out from under him. A quick snatch at the weapon and a shot at higher power left him collapsing to the floor in a sizzle of overloaded circuits.

Wilma looked at the man and the android, both helpless, and then turned for the door. Full speed ahead, she thought, thinking of Buck again. She took down two more androids on her way out of his house, but once into the city, the general population seemed to ignore her, just as they had her and Buck on their flight yesterday. Not everybody in this society knew all the details of what was going on. Wilma pocketed the weapon but kept her hand near its hilt as she ran back toward the complex. That seemed the best place to start finding out Buck's location. She only diverted once, taking down a similarly sized Mangolian woman, pushing her into an alley, and stealing her outer garment, which Wilma slid on over her uniform. Now she was a little less conspicuous, hopefully.

Back to the government complex. Moving in full stealth mode now, she tried to act nonchalant. Fortunately, she encountered no one she recognized, and apparently, her escape wasn't news yet. She was looking for Anderin, and she intended to make _him_ uncomfortable for a change, but as she passed a room in the maze-like halls, her stride checked. The door had opened, and a Mangolian woman stepped out, barely giving Wilma a glance as she turned the other way. But that brief glimpse of the room through the open door drew Wilma's attention at once. It held computers, obviously some kind of data lab.

With a quick look at the back of the retreating woman, Wilma turned and hit the door panel. The room opened obediently. She stepped in. It was indeed a computer lab, and it was now unoccupied except for her. She looked around carefully but couldn't see any sort of monitoring cameras.

The computers. She studied them quickly. The Mangolians were fairly advanced in their android technology but still behind many other species, including humans, in several ways, lacking spaceflight and with only simply interspace communication. They had, as Anderin had said, been a very isolated, internally focused society for almost all of their history. This made the communications console she spotted fair simple by her standards.

She took a minute to examine all the controls. The frequency adjustor was obvious, and she set it. Now, she just hoped that she wouldn't be sharing this attempted conversation with every other communications station in this complex, but the chance was worth taking. With one final look back at the door, keeping one hand on her weapon, she activated the transmitter.

"Searcher, this is Colonel Deering. Do you read?" Silence at first. "Searcher, this is Colonel Deering. Come in, please."

"Colonel!" She had never been more glad to hear the Admiral's voice in her life. "Where are you? Are you all right? Is Buck with you?"

"I'm in the government complex somewhere, and no, Buck isn't with me. Listen quickly; I'm not sure how much time I've got until I'm discovered. The Mangolians captured and sold us. Don't believe anything they tell you. I managed to escape, but Buck and I have been separated. I don't know who bought him, and I don't know where he is. I'm trying to search for him now."

"Hawk is in the city by now," the Admiral said. "He landed last night well away from civilization, and he found the wrecked shuttle. He's disguised, but he is searching the city for you."

"Do you have communication with him?"

"Yes, Colonel, but we're trying to always let him contact us. We don't want to give him away at an inconvenient moment."

"You're going to have to risk it. Listen; this is important. You have _got_ to warn him."

"Warn him about what?" Asimov asked.

"Buck's injured. He got hit on the head back when we were captured the first time yesterday, and he can't remember anything from this century now. All of his memories stop 500 years ago."

There was a moment of stunned silence. "You mean he still thinks he's in the 20th century?"

"No, he figured out pretty quickly that everything looked wrong. I've told him as much as I had time to, but that wasn't much. I told him the date and mentioned the Searcher, but I never brought up Hawk. We didn't have much time to talk before we were captured again. But he doesn't recognize _anybody_. I had trouble even getting him to trust me, and everybody else he's run into so far down here has been trying to take us hostage. He won't know Hawk, and by this point with the day we've had, he's probably about ready to shoot anybody on sight if he can escape and get a weapon. If Hawk assumes Buck will recognize him and just runs up to him, Buck's going to fight him. You've got to warn Hawk. Tell him to be careful how he approaches him and realize that Buck won't know him."

She heard Twiki in the background. "Bedebedebede. Buck would know me. I'm sure of it."

"Not right now, Twiki," she replied. "He doesn't know anything from this century. He didn't remember me at all. Call Hawk and tell him, Admiral. He's got to be informed in case he finds Buck first."

"Can you hold on for a minute?" Asimov asked. "I'll try calling Hawk now."

"I'll do my best, but if I get discovered and have to leave, it wasn't my idea."

"I understand." The link went dead, and Wilma stood there counting seconds. Finally, the welcome voice returned.

"Are you there, Colonel?"

"Yes," she said.

"We talked to Hawk. He realizes the situation with Buck; he will be careful if he finds him. Meanwhile, he suggested that the two of you rendezvous in the woods to the east of the city in an hour. If neither of you have found Buck by then, you can at least join up and search together."

"Good idea." At that moment, the door to the room opened. Wilma fired at once, dropping the Mangolian as he entered. She didn't know this one, but she knew she couldn't escape detection here much longer. "I've got to go, Admiral. I'll keep looking for Buck for the moment, and I'll meet Hawk in an hour."

"Good luck, Colonel. And I am very glad to hear from you. I'm sure the two of you will find Buck somehow. Searcher out."

Wilma switched off the panel. Stepping over her victim, she opened the door, looked right and left, and then stepped out into the hall. Buck. She had to find Buck. At least Hawk knew what was going on now.

All senses alert, weapon ready but tucked in a fold of her garment, she resumed her search through the complex.


	15. Chapter 15

"Here is our lab." Karian opened the door, and Buck went on in, looking around curiously. Computers. They were everywhere in this world, many of them with functions he couldn't even guess, but for all that, this looked almost reassuringly like a medical laboratory. It reminded him of several he'd seen back home.

Home. Which he would never see again. The realization clamped back down on him. Whether on Mangolia or after escape, he would still be a fish out of water.

Selin moved over to one of the terminals and switched it on. "I'll download our data on this virus among our people to a disc. We can take that with us and keep researching. Maybe we'll find some cure and can let them know about it."

Buck paced a small circle. "The longer we take escaping, the more likely we are to get caught."

"Yes," Karian agreed. "We'll go on to a central computer center now and try to access auction results. This can download while we are looking." He took two steps toward the door and then stopped, eyeing Buck. "It would be much less conspicuous for you to stay here and wait, Buck. Taking you into a central data center would be very hard to explain, even if we kept weapons pointed at you."

Buck nodded. That made sense. "I'll wait here, but hurry."

"We will. We will find your friend, Buck." Selin gave him a smile, and the two of them left.

Buck wandered around the room, looking at the terminals and the work tables. Yes, it was like a sci fi version of science lab from school. He studied a few, then resumed pacing.

Wilma. He would be very glad to see her again. She knew him and was the longest link he had to this new world. She had known him two years, she said. He wondered if he actually had developed close connections in this world, who else there was. Did he have many friends? Had he learned their technology? That shuttle earlier had felt very familiar to his hands, even if he didn't remember half of the controls.

He couldn't imagine a life without friends or one without flying. Still, he had trouble imagining life 500 years in the future, too, and here he was. Right now, he felt alone even more than by being the only person in this room.

How long had Karian and Selin been gone? He looked at the flashing lights on his wrist again and wished he could read it. It seemed that he had been pacing this room for hours, but that couldn't be right. He began counting laps. Twenty, thirty, fifty. They should be back by now. Shouldn't they?

What if they had been caught? How could he find Wilma without their help, without knowing where to start? He could simply look in every room of every building, but he knew he was likely to get caught again. He hoped nothing had happened to Karian and Selin; they alone down here seemed like decent people.

Finally unable to resist, he opened the door to the lab and stepped out a few feet, looking around. No sign of them. His agitated fingers dribbled an off-beat pattern against his leg. Where were they?

"Buck!"

His hair-trigger nerves jumped at the unfamiliar voice, and he spun around, drawing his weapon in one smooth motion.

The man approaching was wearing a cloak. "Stop right there," Buck commanded, taking aim.

The man never hesitated. He wasn't hurrying, but he came on steadily. "It's all right, Buck. I come from the Searcher. I am here to rescue you and Wilma." He moved the hood on his cloak back, and Buck's eyes widened at the feathers.

This definitely didn't look like one of the Mangolians. Unless it was a trick; they might be clever enough to try to fool him. But how did they know he had lost his memory? On the other hand, nobody but Wilma, Karian, and Selin knew that, and if she was free enough to inform the ship, she would have been here herself looking for him. Had they tortured the information out of her? "Don't come any closer," Buck warned, backing up a stride to get the wall at his back so that no one could come up behind him and tag team him here.

The bird man walked on. He wore a weapon, but his hands were nowhere near it. "You know me, Buck," he said, his voice even, not a trace of tension. "You and I have understood each other from the beginning, even back when I was still trying to hate you." He came on.

Buck raised the weapon, but the approaching tall figure didn't even flinch. If he had made even a hint of a grab toward his own gun, Buck would have shot him at once, but he simply kept walking steadily right on up to him. He reached out once he was close enough and gripped not Buck's gun but his arms. His hands were warm, secure. "Save it for your enemies, Buck. I am a friend."

"How do you know I can't remember the Searcher?" Buck asked.

"Wilma has escaped, and she found a communications console and called the ship. She told them, and they called me. She is going to meet me east of the city in the woods in twenty minutes, and we were going to search together from that point if neither of us had found you separately."

Buck was still painfully tense, but he finally pocketed the gun. "Who are you?"

"I am Hawk."

"Are you . . . human? Partly?"

"Part of me is," Hawk confirmed.

Buck studied him with open interest. "You remind me of the statues on Easter Island."

Hawk smiled. "My ancestors were responsible for those." He tightened his grip on Buck's arm. "Come on, Buck. Let's go home."

Buck pulled back. "There are two people here who have helped me. They risked themselves to do it. I told them they could come along when we found Wilma and escaped this planet. They went to look up who bought her; they should be back any minute."

Hawk nodded once, accepting this without question. "We will wait, but it would be good if they hurry."

"They've been gone quite a while already. It can't be much longer." Buck opened the door to the lab and stepped back in. "You have a ship? Our shuttle got shot down; it won't fly."

"Yes. It is hidden in the woods well away from the city."

"Can it fit five passengers?"

"Tightly, but we will make it work." Hawk had swept the lab with a glance, but he stayed right next to Buck, not walking around and looking.

"I hate leaving them the shuttle, though. These people. . ." Buck shook his head. "I don't want to give them any advantages, anything to study that they can't work out themselves. They don't need help discovering things."

"Perhaps we can get a tractor beam on the shuttle as we leave; I will try. If not, we will destroy it," Hawk replied.

"Your ship has weapons?" Hopefully it was one of those starfighters.

Hawk smiled. "I can defend myself very well."

Somehow, Buck believed it. A comment from earlier came back to him. "Why were you trying to hate me at first?"

"I'm afraid we don't have time to get into the full story right now," Hawk said. "Your friends will be back any minute, and we must leave as soon as possible. I will tell you later."

Buck sighed. "Yes, you are definitely on the same team as Wilma."


	16. Chapter 16

Buck studied the bird man further while they waited. Hawk had a reserved nobility about him that was completely unlike any of the Mangolians.

Other species. He wondered how many of them he had met by now, how many he knew.

Hawk was also watching Buck, sticking to his side nearly as closely as Wilma had. "Do you feel all right?" he asked.

Buck nodded. "I'm fine. I feel better today than I did yesterday. It's just the memory at this point; it stops back on my ship." He shivered, once more feeling the icy certainty of death's approach back on Ranger.

"Our doctor will surely know some way to help you once we get back to the Searcher. He can seem scattered, but when his interest is caught by something, he will not let it go, and he also is very fond of you. He will not quit on this until you are completely better."

The Searcher. _Let's go home,_ Hawk had said. Buck wondered if any place in this century actually had become home to him. "Do I know a lot of people on the ship?" he asked.

Hawk somehow seemed to realize what Buck was afraid to ask. He gave his slight smile again. "You know everyone on board, and all of them know and like you. You have many friends, Buck."

The door to the lab opened at that moment, and Karian and Selin hurried in, then stopped dead, startled. "It's all right," Buck told them. "This is Hawk; he's from my ship. He came down to look for us, and he found me."

The two of them stared at the bird man with open interest, and then Karian turned to Buck. "We need to hurry, Buck. The man who bought your friend is dangerous; I hate to think what he wants to do with her. He's even worse than Anderin."

"She has escaped," Hawk put in. "She managed to contact the ship; we arranged a rendezvous in the woods east of town in ten minutes."

"We'd better get going," Buck said. "The sooner we're out of here, the better. We were just waiting for you."

Selin gave him a grateful smile. "Thank you, Buck."

Hawk pulled up the hood of his cloak, tucking himself in again at the moment, and Buck moved out in front, letting Karian appear to be covering him. They left the lab and proceeded through the city again, moving carefully. Buck looked around, struck by this place again even at this moment. "Your people sure could have used Sherwin Williams."

"What is Sherwin Williams?" Selin asked.

"A store," Buck replied. "They sell paint. Sold paint." He remembered again that they probably had been out of business for centuries.

"What is paint?"

"It makes things different colors. Not all white."

They never stopped hurrying along, trying to go as fast as they could without appearing to rush and draw attention. They were nearly out of the city when a commotion was heard behind them. "She's escaped!" came a voice. "Anderin! Guards! Alert all stations!"

"Run," Karian suggested. They all picked up the pace, charging through the last few blocks and into the slowly thickening trees, putting the city behind them.

Wilma was up ahead, pacing agitated circles in a clearing, looking at her watch. She heard their approach and looked up with a smile. "Buck!"

She seized him in a hug as he ran up to her. "Hawk found you! Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," he answered. "Good to see you again." He had missed her, and he had been worried himself.

Wilma looked past him, for the first time noticing Karian and Selin. "They're with me," Buck informed her. "I told them they could come along when we escaped."

She still had a hand on his arm, and she tightened up her grip as she spoke with fond exasperation. "Of course you did. I swear, Buck, you can make friends _anywhere_. How do you do it?"

He grinned at her. "Just my natural charm, I guess. So I have a habit of bringing people back with me when I go off to places?"

"Yes."

"We must go," Hawk reminded them. "The alarm has been raised. We need to get out of here."

He led the way now, presumably heading for his ship. Wilma was staying right by Buck as they followed. "Are you all right?" he asked her.

"Yes. I definitely didn't find any friends here, but at least I got away." She looked up at him as they ran. "This is one planet I won't miss."

"Me either. We need to hang a Beware of Mangolians sign on it or something."

She gave him a curious look. "Do what? You mean warn other people?"

"Yes. Nobody else should ever have to go through this."

"We'll definitely flag it in all the star charts."

Hawk angled off slightly. "There was a small outpost up ahead; I saw it coming in. We need to dodge it."

Everyone followed him. Buck looked around the woods, such a contrast to that stark white city. "This place reminds me of earth," he told Wilma. "The woods, I mean. Definitely not the city." He read her expression. "Earth doesn't look anything like this now, does it?"

"No," she confirmed.

"Not much farther," Hawk said. Just as he spoke, a shout came from off to one side.

"There they are!"

The first shot landed wide, a little bit behind them. Buck never heard the second. Once again, every nerve in his body fired, and the world shut out in a sizzle of white as he fell.


	17. Chapter 17

Wilma snapped around at the shout, drawing her weapon as all the others did the same. Even as she snapped off her first shot, she saw out of the corner of her eye a bolt hit Buck square just as he was taking aim on a Mangolian. He dropped in his tracks.

"Buck!" She was too late to catch him and cushion his fall. She knelt next to him. He was motionless.

The Mangolian woman who was apparently a friend knelt down on Buck's other side as Hawk and the man with her returned fire. "He will be all right," the woman said. "The power was set on stun; they will try very hard not to kill you."

"I know; we're valuable property," Wilma snapped. "At least our genes are."

The woman flinched. "I am sorry," she said. "Karian and I apologize for our people, but there is no excuse for our actions against you."

Wilma reminded herself that Buck had vouched for these two. She wasn't feeling very charitable toward anything associated with this planet at the moment, but the woman really did look concerned as well as apologetic.

Hawk appeared at Wilma's shoulder. "Those won't trouble us any more, but there are bound to be others coming." He bent and picked up Buck. "Run!" he commanded.

Everybody obeyed, covering ground as quickly as they could, Hawk in the lead. Their race for freedom seemed impossibly long to Wilma, but when they finally arrived at the ship, she would have run straight past it were it not for Hawk. He stopped, put down Buck, and charged straight into an apparent thicket, stripping branches quickly from his bird of prey. It had been thoroughly camouflaged. Karian helped him uncover it.

Wilma touched Buck, who was still unconscious, and then froze, reaching toward his temple. Hawk had put Buck down with the other side of his face upwards this time, the side that had been toward the ground earlier, and now Wilma saw what had been hidden before. Blood trickled down the side of his face, not much but definitely present. She traced it to a small laceration that already had some swelling around it.

"I don't believe it," she groaned. "He must have hit his head on a jagged rock when he fell." She shook her own head. As tough a time as she had had on this mission, Buck's luck had been far worse.

The woman ran her hands over the gash, and Wilma tensed up. "I am a medical scientist," the woman told her. "My husband Karian and I both are. My name is Selin. The cut doesn't seem too bad."

Wilma could see that for herself, but she was more worried about the second hard whack on his head in as many days. "We've got to get him to our doctor."

"Now!" Hawk said. She looked up. The bird of prey was cleared off, and he had opened the door. Hawk lifted Buck again, and they all piled into the ship. It was a very tight fit; Hawk's fighter had never been intended for five. Still, determination added what space didn't, and the door finally was closed just as more shouts were heard outside.

A bolt skipped off the ship's skin. Wilma flinched, but Hawk looked unconcerned. Starting the engines quickly, he lifted off smoothly and at once turned the ship back around. His weapons scorched the group, and what Mangolians were still able to scattered at once, rapidly losing all interest in returning fire. Hawk gave them a few more shots for good measure, then turned and opened up the throttle.

The ship soared across the woods, staying well up above the trees. Selin and Karian were looking through the viewport, fascinated. Hawk switched on the communications panel. "Searcher, this is Hawk. I have Wilma and Buck, as well as two Mangolians who are escaping the planet with us. We will be heading back soon. I will try to get a tractor beam on the shuttle first or destroy it if I can't."

"Is Buck all right?" Asimov asked.

"He still has no memory of us," Hawk replied. At that moment, shots lit up the woods below them. "I must go, but we will return soon." He shut down the channel and turned the ship again, blasting the source of the bolts from below until they had thoroughly ceased.

"Impressive," Karian said. "Could your ship yesterday not do this?" he asked Wilma.

"No," she replied. "We didn't bring a ship with weapons. This was just a diplomatic mission, or so we thought."

Hawk saw another flicker of fire below and once again responded with many times the force. "I want to be sure to make an impression on them," he said. "Hopefully they will think twice before making enemies of other species again."

Up ahead was the wreck of the shuttle, and Hawk dropped altitude, trying to snare it with a tractor beam. The shuttle hooked on behind them, and he rose into the atmosphere again, this time heading up toward space.

"That was a good idea about fetching the shuttle," Wilma said. "They certainly don't need any help from us in learning more technology."

"It was Buck's idea," Hawk replied.

At that moment, Buck stirred in the back seat in which he had been deposited. Wilma had been right next to him anyway, even without an official seat there, and she ran a soothing hand along his arm. "Easy, Buck," she said. "It's all right. We got away."

His eyes opened and slowly focused, then took in his surroundings. "We're on . . ." Wilma started.

"Hawk's ship," he finished. He grinned at her.

They were his eyes, definitely _his_ eyes again in every way. "You remember!"

He nodded. "Everything. Shooting me with that stun gun apparently did the trick. Wonder why it didn't work the first time yesterday."

"You didn't just get shot; you hit your head on a rock going down." He reached up, trying to explore the spot, and she pulled his hand away. "Leave that alone. We'll see what Dr. Goodfellow thinks, soon as we land."

"There's no reason to go see him," Buck protested. "I'm _fine_ now. Perfectly fine."

Wilma gave an exasperated sigh. "Buck, sometimes, you can be annoying."

"Just sometimes?" he asked playfully.

Space was now black around them, and Selin and Karian were staring in open wonder at the starfield. Up ahead, the shape of the Searcher slowly enlarged, and Hawk turned for the final approach. They soared into the hanger bay, and he landed perfectly, even with the shuttle in tow, and then sat back, waiting for the green light indicating that the bay had pressurized.

"I won't miss that planet," Buck said. He stood up - and wobbled.

Wilma caught his arm at once, and Hawk was only a bit slower on the other side. "I'm all right," Buck objected. "It's just the effects of that stun gun. You know yourself, Wilma; it takes a few minutes to walk it off."

"And you can take that walk straight to sick bay," she insisted.

He shook his head. "I told you, I'm _fine_. I remember everything now."

She gritted her teeth. "Buck Rogers, I swear, I'll shoot you again myself if that's what it takes to get you checked out."

"You wouldn't," he countered.

She drew her weapon with unmistakable intent, and Hawk unholtstered his also. Buck looked from one gun to the other. "Talk about ganging up on someone."

The pressurization light out on the deck had switched to green several seconds ago, and Wilma nudged Buck toward the ship's door, keeping the hand not holding the gun on his arm as a support. "Start walking, Captain."

Buck sighed and moved off, definitely a little tentative in spite of his insistence that he was fine. Hawk opened the door.

Right at the base of the ramp waited a short silver robot with an air of unmistakable concern. "Hiya, Twiki," Buck said as he exited.

Twiki straightened up proudly, becoming at least half an inch taller. "Bedebedebede. I told you he'd know me, Wilma."


	18. Chapter 18

That night, Wilma let out a sigh as the door to her quarters closed behind her. What a day. What a couple of days. She felt exhausted by more than just little sleep last night.

Buck had been thoroughly checked out over his objections, and Dr. Goodfellow's tests could find nothing wrong with him now. Still, just from the events on Mangolia, the doctor had pulled him from active duty for two days and told him to take it easy. Buck's version of that, of course, had so far been wandering around the ship and getting in the way of others who were working. Wilma had stuck with him, even though the Admiral had given her the rest of today off herself and told her to rest. Eventually, Buck had finally admitted that he was getting tired, and she had left him in his cabin. He had encouraged her to come back here and go on to bed herself.

But now that she was here, her mind wouldn't shut off. She settled on the couch, sipping a hot drink and thinking.

Karian and Selin were by this point under Dr. Goodfellow's wing. They had quickly found common ground in scientific enthusiasm, and he was studying their virus while they studied human medical history. Wilma had accepted those two by this point; they really were appalled at their people's actions, and they seemed glad to escape Anderin's society. They did seem somewhat surprised that everybody on the Searcher took them at face value. Buck saying they were friends was a good enough pedigree for his shipmates. Asimov had said they would most likely be dropped off at the next major spaceport with a strong scientific community. They were clearly fascinated by their new world and eager to broaden their education.

They also had had a gift for Buck. On finding out that he enjoyed growing things, Selin had donated the seeds from their last mangolam that they had with them. Buck was already happily planning light and water quotients, hoping to raise some himself before long.

Buck. All her thoughts circled back to Buck, and the pure relief itself was keeping her awake. She had been so worried about him the last two days, but he was going to be okay, even though he would give her, Hawk, and everyone else on board a challenge for the next two days keeping him from working.

The door chime sounded. Wilma groaned softly. Whoever it was, she had no energy left this day to deal with them.

"Wilma?" It was Buck's voice, soft but unmistakable. Wilma quickly decided she could deal with company after all.

"Come in," she called, and the computer responded to the words and opened the door.

He entered slowly. "Good. You weren't asleep yet. I figured it would take you a while to unwind."

She couldn't help smiling watching him. His face, his voice, his stride - everything was so dear to her by now. He did look tired himself, and her gaze lingered for a moment on the small bandage on his temple. She was impressed that it was still on. He would probably lose it by tomorrow at the latest. "You ought to be resting yourself," she told him.

He shrugged. "Too wound up. I tried to go to sleep, but I . . . I don't want to wake up knowing nothing again. Once was hard enough."

Only he had had to do it twice, she knew. The first time, two years ago, and then again on Mangolia. She couldn't have taken the news half as well herself as he had. She held out a hand, and he came over to join her on the couch. "It's all right now, Buck. Everything that happened down there is over; it isn't going to happen again."

"So why aren't you asleep yourself?" he challenged.

"I . . ."

He studied her, his eyes totally serious at the moment. "I'm sorry, Wilma."

"For what?"

"Forgetting you."

"Buck, you didn't forget _me_. It wasn't personal. You forgot _all_ of us, and there was a medical explanation. It's not like you wanted to."

He slid an arm around her shoulders, pulling her over against him. "I still can't believe I forgot you of all people."

"It's all right, Buck." She kissed him. "I'm just glad you're okay now. And, not that I wanted you to go through that, but I do hope I did a little better this time being there for you. I still can't believe how I treated you two years ago when you first showed up."

"You were wonderful," he reassured her. "Much better than old Theo breaking the news to me. I do wonder one thing, though."

"What?" she asked.

"Why didn't you tell me that you and I were in a relationship?" he asked.

"It wouldn't have been fair to you," she replied. He looked puzzled. "Buck, you _were_ reliving it. All the last two years, they didn't apply. And back at that point, when you first came, you were dealing with just losing Jennifer. I know how much she meant to you. Telling you right then, when you hadn't even dealt with that yet, that you and I were together would have just made you feel guilty. You needed time to grieve for her again, for her and the rest of your world. You weren't ready to hear that you'd moved on."

He bent his head to kiss her. "I love you, Wilma Deering. You're a very special person."

"I love you, too," she said, enjoying being able to say it again.

They sat there quietly for a minute, snuggled up against each other, and she was just about to suggest that the bed would be more comfortable when she realized that he had fallen asleep. She watched him, counting the breaths, leaning against the reassurance that he would know her as soon as he woke up. He was all right now. They had both thought they'd get more sleep in their respective quarters tonight, but maybe he had needed to be with her after all. And maybe she had needed to be with him. She could feel her own jangled nerves smoothing out now and feel sleep beckoning.

Gently she slid out from the loop of his arm and then turned him, picking up his legs and settling him along the length of the couch. He never stirred. Finally, she rejoined him, and his arms tightened up again around her as she lay down next to him. Lost in love and relief, she fell asleep quickly.


End file.
